Secrets Inside
by CreativeAJL
Summary: 'Do you remember what the Americans were looking for? The UFOs, the giants, the aliens, all the supernatural beings? Yeah? Well, I know where they're at. That's right, I've seen them with my own eyes. I've smelled them, breathed them, and lived them. And I can show you where they're all at. Just follow me and I can show you the ways.'
1. See You Later

**Prologue Part I:**

* * *

 **Colette Levine-Kane, 8, District Two Resident**

* * *

 _As I walk around the playground, I continue to shuffle my feet and kick at the dirty rocks just lying there. I'm the last one here, and all of my friends have left with their parents. It sucks, always being the last one of your friends to get picked up; I can't count how many times Dad- I mean Hero... has failed to pick me up early._

 _I know that he's a Victor and all, and that he has work to do, but that doesn't mean he can't take time out of his day to pick me up first for once. All of my friends continue to laugh at me all-day everyday. The fact that I was taken away from my real dad is bad enough to handle, with all the immature brats teasing me about it every single day, but not having a mother as well..._

 _That's just the icing on the cake._

 _Sometimes life is difficult, and I question why I live it. But then other times I knock myself out of these deep thoughts, realizing that there's so much more to do than wait on people. I can handle myself, I'm a young, talented, independent female, so there's no reason why I should let other people get in my way of success._

 _What I do is my business and what they do is theirs. But still. You'd think once – not twice, but just once – that I'd be the first to go home, being picked up with my legs over Hero's shoulder, him holding them and walking me home as I wave to all my friends, yelling, ''How's it feel now, huh, seeing me as the first to leave?! Later!''_

 _But it's fine, it really is. I don't care anymore, and whatever anyone says won't bother me, because I can-_

 _''Colette!'' Two voices call out at once; one familiar – Hero's, obviously – and one not so familiar. Slowly turning, I come to face with a woman who I swear I've seen before. When I lift my head up to look at Hero, he chuckles proudly and places his hand on my head, ruffling my hair up a bit._

 _''Hey!'' I shout, in a playful way. ''Quit it, you jerk!''_

 _He stops instantly, something that he's never done before, and puts both of his hands behind his back. ''Colette, take a closer look,'' he says, slowly moving his eyes to the side. I follow the same way his eyes do, now locking eyes with the beautiful woman in front of me; her long, straight brown hair shimmers beautifully in the light, her gray eyes pop out and resemble mine, just a little bit, and the longer I stare into them, the more they begin to frighten me – just like how people have told me my eyes do the same to them..._

 _''W-Who are you?'' I ask timidly, still staring straight into the eyes of this woman. Then it hits me. Her face! I've seen it before – in a picture or something, I'm not sure – but I know for a fact that I've seen it! Wait... ''Isha?!'' I ask, unable to remove my gaze from her figure. ''No... Mom!''_

 _She smiles sweetly at me, but her face soon begins faltering. First, her nose grows very red at the tip; then, her small mouth screws itself around by her left ear; and gradually, her face wrinkles in happiness. And if you listen intently and watch closely, you could hear small sniffs and see a pair of tears racing down her cheeks._

 _''Honey, I missed you!'' She says shakily, wrapping me around in a tight embrace. She presses my body against hers, her smooth skin warm with a tender feeling to it. Now I can't help but shed a few tears myself. Quickly, I stare up, the tears blinding my vision, but I still reach my hand out to get a hold of Hero's._

 _''You brought her to me,'' I sniff, trying my best to laugh but my shaky voice won't allow me to. ''Thank you so much!'' I nudge at his hand, trying to pull him into the hug. ''Get in here, you!''_

 _Like I asked, Hero wraps both of his arms around the two of us, and we stand like this for minutes on end. To me, this is a family. The one that I've always wanted, and the one that I finally got._

 _''It's been too long, Colette,'' Mom sniffs, still smiling genuinely. ''I'm finally back, with you and Hero. We can grow together, learn from each other, and be toget-''_

My eyes open like two flashlight beams, knocking me right out of that dream... Though my eyes are open, I can't think of why. My heart is pounding, my mind empty. It's as if adrenaline has been emptied into my stomach. I shake my head vigorously, knocking myself completely awake and away from the inactivity going on in my mind.

Slowly, I hop out of bed and get myself prepared – I brush my teeth quickly, hop into the shower and out, and manage to groom my hair and lay out my clothes just in time, before Hero and I have to go back to District One. I know that Hero has to be back today, because of the Reaping tomorrow, so I want to make him happy and proud when he sees me all prepared.

Now checking the time, I jump back in shock, realizing that I'm six hours ahead of the time that I was supposed to wake up at. Shaking my head in disappointment, I suck my teeth and snap my fingers while slowly walking back to bed, and kick my slippers off. ''You've got to be kidding me,'' I sigh. ''What am I supposed to do now?''

 _Go back to sleep_ , my mind tells me, but that isn't possible. When it comes to me, you just _can't_ go back to sleep – it's utterly impossible! At least I have my dollies and tea cups to keep me busy; they're all that I need in order to enjoy myself, besides fun-time with Hero. Those are always great, playing with that old goofball!

 _''Colette!''_ Mom's face flashes into my mind, and just like that I remember what I was dreaming about – her, and me, and Hero! Forcefully, I kick myself out of bed, again, and rush to my closet – yes, I ignored the clothes that I put out before, those don't matter now. Trying my hardest to find a coat, I finally grab one, take it out and put it on.

Quietly opening up my door, I slowly shut it, making sure that I don't wake Hero up. I scurry down the stairs with my bunny slippers and blue pajama pants on, opening and closing the front double-doors just like I did with my room door.

After shutting the door, I take off sprinting, my small legs carrying me further and further until I finally reach District Two's main cemetery. Unlike the morgues – where all the dead tribute bodies go to – here, at the cemetery, lies all of the _other_ dead bodies. Although my mother's body isn't here, her tombstone and a picture of her is, along with rows of flowers.

I look around, staring at the row of tombstones that stand erect in silence to the left and right, in front and behind, like a sea of the dead. Some of them are crumbled with the weathering of centuries, some were smooth marble with new black writing and laid with floral tributes. Most, though, were overgrown and unkempt. Sometimes I wonder how a place could be so full and empty at the same time.

Shaking my head vigorously, I bring my mind back to why I came here – to visit my mother one last time before heading off. At the end of the rows, where two mighty tombstones stand, both engraved with multiple messages stating how much they were loved, and their pictures carved on all sides, showing their beauty and how much they were adored here in District Two. Looking at these two graves makes me smile, yet it also makes me sad at the same time.

The grave next to mom's belongs to a boy named Asyrin Katchet, who placed sixth last year after a stab through the ribs, but unfortunately, he took my mom down with him, as she placed fifth. It sucks, but at least they were friends in their final moments of life. I wonder if they're roaming around in Heaven somewhere, holding hands and staring down at Hero and I. I sure hope so.

But this is kinda depressing. Life is but a roaming shadow, as we can see here. Life is just something that struts and frets his few moments upon the stage, and then is heard no longer. It's a tale imparted by a foolish wit, full of noise and fury and pain and anguish and so much more... yet meaningless nonetheless. Such a beautiful lie, yet also a depressing truth.

''Why..?''

Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my shoulder, the touch warm with a feeling of love. ''How'd I know you'd be here?'' Hero asks, a sparkle in his eyes. I nudge my hand and elbow him in the stomach softly.

''Because you know me well, doofus!'' I joke, wrapping my arms around his waist in a hug. ''I'm sorry, I just couldn't help myself. I just _had_ to visit her once more, to tell her how much I love her... You understand, don't you?''

''Of course I understand,'' he holds my hand. ''Say, while we're here, why don't we pay our respects to your mother? You know, to show her how much we care about her. And we can't forget about Asyrin either, you know.''

''But I don't even know Asyrin!'' I pout.

''Colette, play nice,'' Hero smiles. ''He was your mother's friend, after all, so the least we can do is share some love to him as well.''

''Alright, fine!'' I agree. ''But I won't enjoy it-''

''Hero!'' President Real's face appears from Hero's holographic watch – the one he was given right after he became a Victor. ''The plans have changed, I need you back in District One in three hou-'' He stops abruptly. ''Child, where have you gotten yourself lost off to now?''

''I'm not lost, sir,'' Hero groans. ''I'm at the cemetery with Colette. We're here to pay Isha and Asyrin one last-''

''I don't care about that.'' He cuts in. ''Anyway, get back to District One, now! There's a train waiting for the both of you, so hurry up. I've changed the Reaping time, and neither me, or anyone else in Panem, wants their newest Victor to arrive late, so get going!''

With that, he disappears and leaves. ''Jeez, what a douche!'' I groan, placing my hands behind the back of my head.

''Colette, don't use that type of language,'' Hero says, reaching down to pick me up. I let go of my head and raise my hands up, allowing him to place me on his shoulders.

''Sorry!'' I quickly cover my mouth. ''Watching that Asyrin guy you were friends with really made me acquire some... inappropriate language.''

Hero chuckles, looking at me through his peripheral vision. ''Doesn't mean you have to copy him, and you know that.'' He's right, I really shouldn't. ''Besides, you don't need to follow what other people do. You're an independent young woman who knows what she wants in life, so be yourself and do as you please, okay? You're going far, kid. Just like your mother.''

''Why, thank you,'' I flip my hair. ''I'm flattered that you think that. You know, when I am big and out in the World, I'll bring you along with me whenever I go on one of my famous journeys!''

We both begin to laugh now, with enormous grins on our faces. ''I can't wait.''

''But seriously, that President sure is an ass- I mean, butthole! I don't like him,'' I state. ''Besides, who gets up way before the time arrives just to tell someone to do something? That's so unfair for the other people who have to deal with their lack of sympathy, you get me?''

Hero stops real quick and turns his face to the side. He smiles and then gives me an accusatory look, and I'm taken aback. ''N-No, what I did was different! Y-You d-don't understand, I had t-to-''

''I totally understand,'' he reassures. ''I would've done the same if I was in your situation. You don't need to be nervous. I just want to let you know that I can't wait to see what big things you do when you're older. Isha would be proud of you. Hey, I bet she's smiling at us from Heaven right now.''

My face turns red and I begin to blush, but I still maintain my composure. Now leaning closer to Hero's face, I give him a quick peck on the cheek and say, ''This is why I love you, Hero.''

''I love you, too, Colette.''

''Good!'' I cheer. ''Now, go forward, pony! Forward, I said!''

''B-But that's not where our destination is located!''

''I do not care, you are my pony, and you will listen to what I say. Now forward!''

Just as Hero begins to pick up speed, he trips over a rock and face plants into the ground, bringing me down with him. I fall right beside him, but his hand cushions my landing. ''You're such a clumsy fool!''

''I know...''

Sliding closer towards him, I place one of my arms each around the bottom of his chin and on top of his head, smiling brightly as I place my forehead on his forehead.

''But you're my clumsy fool.''

* * *

 **A/N: Hey, and welcome to my third SYOT! And also the sequel to Second Chance. For those of you reading SC, I know that I haven't finished it yet (there's still one more chapter), and this first POV might be a bit confusing. I know, but trust me: everything will be cleared up and you'll see exactly why we're at this point in the next chapter. Whenever I get it out, that is... Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed the prologue. At the moment of me writing this, I still haven't figured out a name for this story, and I'm not going back to edit this A/N, so yeah... XD And for those of you who are new, if you want to you can read Second Chance, but you don't have to. I don't mind you submitting without knowing exactly what's going on. :)**

 **Also, the rules for this story will be posted on my profile, all the way at the bottom. Just as a warning, this story WILL have cursing in it. I cannot lie to you and say that it won't, so if you're uncomfortable with that to a point where you can't handle it, I suggest clicking off of this story. Secondly, I will NOT have any trigger warnings. So if there's drug usage, alcohol abuse, domestic violence or whatever, I won't put a warning in because I don't like letting people know what happens in the beginning of a POV or whatever. I just feel like that removes all the surprise from it, and the tributes will be looked at differently, so yeah. And thirdly, I don't care what type of tribute you submit – you can make it a necrophiliac, an abused tribute, a prostitute, a killer, a trans, a homophobic, a gay/lesbian; whatever your heart desires. I don't mind anything. And for strengths and weaknesses, please don't give me sentences. I would much prefer if you could give me a list of adjectives, so an example would be like:**

 **Strengths: Diligent, Beguiling, Vigorous, Composed**

 **Weaknesses: Loyal, Manipulated, Obsessive, Oblivious**

 **I just put random ones down, but you get the point xD So yeah, besides that, I hope that you take your time to submit a tribute! I can't wait to see where this story takes off, and I know that whatever tributes I receive will be great, so I'm excited about that. Besides that, I think I'm done here and wanna wrap this up. Do let me know your opinions on this prologue and what you think. If you don't mind, I have a few questions I'd like for you all to answer, if it's not too much trouble. :)**

* * *

 **What do you think of Colette?**

 **Do you like her and Hero's relationship?**

 **How did you like the prologue overall?**

 **Are you planning on submitting?**

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 **Anyway, that's all for now. Once again, thank you for reading, and I hope that you all enjoyed. Please follow, favorite, review, and submit. If you have any questions, feel free to PM me. I wouldn't mind answering any of them. So that's all, for now. Oh, and the Deadline for this story is Saturday, April 9th, 2016 at 12PM Eastern Time. Ugh, looking back on this A/N, I see myself as a strict person. I'm totally not, by the way, so I just wanted to let you know to have fun while submitting these tributes. I'll see you all next time, and have a wonderful day/night! :)**


	2. Ready For A Ride?

**Prologue Part II:**

* * *

 **Hero Kane, 18, District One Mentor**

* * *

It was late morning, the sun still down and yet to rise, when Colette and I boarded the Capitol train. There, waiting, was a middle-aged man, someone who held high value and respect for others, smiling kindly and warmly, offering us anything that we needed.

''Colette, do you want anything?'' I ask, patting her on the head. She looks up at me, her eyes piercing into my soul, and shakes her head. ''Are you sure?'' I ask once again, this time looking at the man, a forced smile on my face. ''I'm sure he wouldn't have a problem getting you anything; he said so himself.''

''No, I'm fine.'' She states, grabbing my hand, her soft palms mixing in with mine, squeezing them as she holds onto me tightly. ''I just want to get to District One right now. I'm very excited, as this is my first time actually going to another District!''

''Right, I forgot,'' I apologize. ''You know, it's just been too long.''

''Yeah, I know,'' she giggles. Now letting go, she runs and hops onto a chair, her legs swinging back and forth as she bounces, trying her best to hold in the excitement but being unable to do so. As I look closer at the furniture, I realize just how different it is on the personal Capitol trains, instead of the District-Oriented ones.

They all looked like they were from the set of a futuristic science fiction movie, with sleek metal frames, black leather seats, smooth lines, and nothing excessive; all mini-malistic with chairs suspended from steel wires that are streamlined and designed to fit into compact spaces.

''Hero!'' Colette's voice catches me off guard, stunning me for just under five seconds. Looking up at her, I give a cheeky smile and nod my head, curious as to what's circulating in that bright mind of hers.

''Yeah, what is it?'' I inquire, placing a hand on my chin while standing up. She starts laughing whole-heartedly, the excitement illuminating on her face. ''Come on, spit it out,'' I now laugh, her laughter being contagious to me.

''Okay, okay, okay!'' She cheers. ''I can't hold this in any longer, but what is District One like? Is it how everyone thought it would be, with the beautiful golden gates to every house, the heavenly water fountains, the sky always being blue, and everyone in the District being beautiful and cheerful and kind and warm and just overall amazing?!''

Staggering backwards, I place my hand up to my heart to stop the wind from being knocked out, but my mouth gapes open and everything comes rushing out like a broken dam with millions of gallons of water inside of it. I literally can't catch my breath and begin to cough, the mucus getting stuck on the roof of my mouth.

Colette leans her head to the side, squinting her eyes in order to enhance her vision and catch why I'm reacting this way, I suppose. ''W-What?!'' She asks, flustered. Her hands were up in the air just a few moments ago, and now she flops them back down to her side. Now pursing her lips, she brings her arms up to her chest and folds them, uttering the words, ''I can't believe you're acting that way to me asking about your home District – can't you just tell me what it's like?''

Now stopping the choked assault on myself, I look at Colette straight into her eyes – the same eyes her mother had – and sigh in an exhausted manner. ''You know what,'' I try to fill her in, wanting to play a little game with her. ''Let's make a deal.''

''A deal?'' She raises her eyebrows, her facial features in an entertaining but also unnerving look on her face. The bleakness of her gaze really set me off, although she can't hold it for long because her adorable, sweet little smile pops right back up on the features of her young face. ''I'm down for a deal, as long as you tell me about District One!''

I roll my eyes playfully and say, ''Alright, here's the deal: we'll play a quick game of cat and mouse, okay? I'll be the mouse, and you can be the cat – I'll go find a place to hide while you count to ten, and if you catch me, I'll tell you everything that you'd like to know about District One, okay?''

Her face lights up even more know, like the sky on a celebrating night – like the night of my Victor's Party. It's like fireworks just set off in her brain, her eyes are observing the surrounding area cautiously, yet her movements show so much more; she's uncontrollably bouncing up and down, her hair flapping all around her face and the joy in her squeal making me laugh out loud in delight.

''Yes, yes, yes!'' She shouts in excitement. ''Okay, go hide! I'm gonna count to ten, so go go go!'' Before I can reply, she already has her eyes closed and is on the count of four.

Quickly taking off on my heels and entering another room – the wrong one, actually, which leads to a bedroom instead of the kitchen – I look for a place to hide. Around, I spot windows, cabinets, closets and bookshelves. The thing is, the closet is gonna be expected way too much because, I mean, who wouldn't hide in the closet?

The cabinets aren't too small, but I think getting trapped inside of them and suffocating, while my head continuously hits the roof, wouldn't be such a great idea. The windows, on the other hand, don't have much for me to do with, and-

''Hero, I'm gonna find you!'' Colette's voice rings in my eyes.

Her voice is _so_ close to the room that I'm in, and I begin to grow determined. This is fun, and it relieves the painful thoughts of my Games. You know how every Victor has some coping method in order to get through the pain? – most of them using some type of drug or alcohol. Well, I guess Colette is my drug, seeing as she's the only part of Isha that I have left, and I don't want to lose her. So, I gotta have as much fun with her as possible.

Looking over the room again, now actually seeing things that I didn't see before, I realize that there was a massive four poster canopy bed with a glass fronted cabinet that has polished cherry wood; chairs with carved backs and splendidly proportioned cabriole legs, and a dignified mahogany writing desk – it's funny how I didn't see any of this before; I must be blind or something.

''I've almost got you!'' She shouts out, the giggles echoing throughout the outside room. There's nowhere I can go to make this last, and I— Wait a minute, the windows! It's been a while since I've pranked someone – the last time I can remember pranking someone was when Asyrin yelled at me in the Arena, after the demon thing, which was a year ago – so why not bring it back?

Picking up one of the polished chairs, I silently tune in on the shaking of the room's door handle. It's now or never, so I chuck the chair as hard as I can, watching as it smashes against the glass and the window shards simultaneously fall at the same time, the sun gleaming down on them. Quickly, I drop to the floor and roll under the giant bed.

Beneath me, the wooden floor felt so soft, not like a firm carpet, but well enough for me to feel comfortable. Finally, after moments of the doorknob shaking, Colette pushes the door open and scurries her feet into the room, twisting her body left and right, trying to catch a glimpse of where I'm at. All of a sudden, it seems as if a rush of realization comes to her face and she moves to the edge of the room, her jeans brushing against the mildewed wall.

''H-Hero?'' She says, bringing her hands up to her mouth. She stares out the window of the moving train, being careful enough not to step on any of the glass shards, and looks outside. ''HERO, WHERE ARE YOU?'' Her questions are answered with the creaking of the door moving lazily in the breeze. Colette suddenly staggers backwards, the expression on her face looking like so many pessimistic thoughts are swirling through her mind, her breathes shallow until she falls in a heap on the floor.

''Gotcha!'' I roll back, catching her off guard, causing her to let out an unexpected shriek. Colette just sits there. She's as white as chalk. Her eyes and mouth are frozen wide open in an expression of stunned surprise, and although she's staring straight at me, she appears to not notice me at all. That is until her shoulders hunch together like she's trying to disappear inside herself, and a hen-pecked look shows up on her face. ''Ha...'' I chuckle nervously. ''G-Gotcha..!''

Grumbling, she quickly shakes herself out of the shock and comes running towards me. I expected her to start attacking, but she only wraps her arms around me like a present. ''Don't ever scare me like that again!'' Instantly, a couple of faces from last year pop up inside my mind – those same words that so many said to me before triggered the memories.

''I-I won't,'' I say, still chuckling. Just as she's about to say something and pout, the train comes to an abrupt stop. It was quiet for a few moments, but Colette and I begin to hear noises from outside – cheering.

''Are we here?!'' She jumps up, showing her teeth in a wide smile. ''Are we really really really here, in District One? I hope all of the things I heard about One are true, because this place sounds awesome! Just listen to the excitement! You guys really are the best District, aren't you?''

Trying not to frown, I gulp and nod my head. She expects so much of District One, and although many of the myths and legends that she's heard might be true, we still have our faults like every other District – not everyone here is rich, or Victor material, or pretty, or friendly. There's a mix here, just like there's a mix in every other District, and sometimes we can be counted out majorly.

If only it were easy to tell someone as ecstatic as her that.

The middle-aged man from before now knocks on the door, catching our attention. ''We're here, and right on time as well. Everyone is waiting for you so that the Reaping can being, so don't keep them waiting,'' he laughs. ''We wouldn't want everyone worrying about their Victor, now, would we?''

Smiling, I shake my head and grab Colette's hand. ''Thank you for the ride,'' I say, and Colette follows along and says the same thing.

Exiting the train, Colette and I make our way across the Justice Building. She takes everything in, from the portraits on the walls, to the gem-spotted door that opens up to District One. To her, it's probably like a dreamland. Somewhere she can just run around and float in, and I can't even begin to describe how adorable that seems to me.

We reach the door and I open it for her – and she immediately runs out. Not even ten steps in, she stops abruptly and stands there, frozen in shock at what she sees. District One is full of excitement this year, with two Victors coming in back-to-back, so I wouldn't be surprised if they expected for yet another tribute to come back – they want a three-peat.

The crowd moves like a multi-headed beast that only shared one brain and had a large opening to its center. There was the male side of trainees, and the female side of trainees. Everyone else, including the elderly, stayed all the way in back and cheered as well, the excitement here erupting unlike any other type of enthusiasm that I've ever seen in my life before.

They were all just so jubilant. Everyone is rubbing shoulders, never minding that their toes are often trodden on or that they are in closer proximity to random strangers than they usually are to friends or even family. The atmosphere was one of elation, the warm summer air occasionally punctured by whoops and hollers.

''HEY!'' A familiar voice shouts, and I feel a hand touch my shoulder. Staring up, I see Gari – the Victor before me – standing in front of me and giving me a stern look. ''It's your first year as mentor, kid. Make it count, and remember one thing: don't let the thoughts of those dead ''allies'' of yours stop you from giving these other kids good advice, okay?''

''Jeez, thanks for the warm welcoming,'' I shrug my shoulder and slide his hand away. He gives me a cocky smile and turns to look at Colette. From the look on his face, I see how hard he's trying not to grimace.

''That's Isha's daughter?'' He points with his thumb. I nod. ''Looks like her; she has the same eyes, nose, and everything else. Treat her well, Hero. Don't want her turning out just like her mother and end up throwing her life away to the Games. After all, not everyone is a born star like me, you know? Anyway, I'll see you on the train after the volunteers mount the stage. They're supposed to be twins this year. Interesting, right?''

Colette stares up at me and says, ''Damn, that guy's a jerk.'' I end up shrugging and tell her that she'll get used to him, but she always has a smart remark by her side. ''Get used to what? His confidence, how cocky he is, and how annoying he is? No wonder why he's barely starring in any Capitol interviews on television anymore. The guy's a real dick, you know.''

I would usually tell her to watch her language at a moment like this, but I can't deny that her words are very true. Giggling together, I quickly pick her up and sit on the chair all the way to the left – every Victor lines up from order of Victory, and newest takes the last one. Right next to Gari is Reese – my mentor from last year – and she catches my eye, so she returns me a kind look, with a radiating smile that spells out the unspoken words ''good luck.''

Placing Colette on my lap, I mouth, ''Thank you,'' and stare at the rest of the Victors. Most of them are older now, seeing as our District went on a Victory drought. But maybe we'll get back to it? I don't condone the Hunger Games, but what can I do about it?

''Hey, look forward!'' Gari urges. ''You missed the Treaty of Treason!''

Turning my head back towards the audience, I stare as Colette gasps and says, ''Hero, look!'' The words that everyone was waiting to hear – the words that always start the Reaping off with a bang, invariably with District One:

''I volunteer!''

* * *

 **Hey! Bet you thought you were slick, huh, scrolling all the way down to the bottom to see if your tribute made the list, right? Ha ha... No. Go back up to the top and read the chapter, please. I'm basically begging you here. C'mon, you know you wanna read the chapter to find out what's going on... Please!** **(** **ಥـْـِـِـِـْಥ** **)**

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 **A/N: For those of you who did read the chapter, I'd just like to say thank you! Unlike those of you who skipped the to bottom. Yeah, you! You know who you are... Asshole :I First of all, all I have to say is that, yes, I know, these first two chapters were probably meaningless to some of you, and you're probably wondering why didn't I fill those of you who are new on anything? Well, my dear readers, the thing is that... I don't know, actually. I just felt like having Hero and Colette time, because I wanna make these two dear characters last, you feel? Secondly, I just want to let you guys know that before we see who these tributes are, I had such a hard time choosing them. Seriously, I got stressed over who I was gonna choose and who I wasn't, which sucks.**

 **I rejected people twice in a row know, those of you who submitted for Second Chance but didn't get in, and I've rejected a couple of friends that I've made on this website, which I feel terrible about. I'm sorry to those of you who now probably hate me and think I'm a jackass, or whatever word you wanna call me, and I'm fine with you guys thinking of me like that. But just know that I could only accept 24 tributes, and you guys submitted 58 tributes in total – 25 males, 33 females – and in all honesty, I never expected to get that many submissions. I was expecting about 28, to be honest, but here you all went and blew my mind and gave me anxiety XD**

 **Now, I had trouble with so many of these spots, while others were just absolute no-brainers. Once again, I'm sorry for those of you who weren't accepted. I feel awful, but trust me, it's not all that bad as it seems. If you thought that my story was good or decent or alright, this is nothing compared to this guy named Jakey121. I don't know him well, and he probably doesn't know me, but I've read some of his stories and I'm sure that you all have, too. He just came out with another SYOT named ''Devil Side,'' I believe, and a good friend of mine told me that he isn't getting as many submissions as he used to back when he was super active. So, if you guys didn't make it, please go over to his story and submit to him. Just tweak the tribute form to his liking, and bam, you're set. Just don't go for the District Eleven Male spot, thanks. ;)**

 **Anyway, I don't have much left to say... Hopefully these first two chapters were appealing? If not, I understand, but it's just the beginning. We got all the introduction crap out of the way, so let's meet our tributes, shall we? Once again (this is like my 400th time apologizing), I'm sorry if your tribute didn't make it. Hopefully you don't hate me, and for my good friends on this website who didn't get in, understand that there was no bias to this, and I just chose the tributes I loved the most and knew I would have a fun time writing. I hope that you understand.**

* * *

 **Tribute List**

 **District One:**

Male: Adonis DiMae

Female: Blush Belfleur

 **District Two:**

Male: Atlas Aureliano

Female: Sigrid Lapierre

 **District Three:**

Male: Emil Robins

Female: Cathodette Lyte

 **District Four:**

Male: Zeppelin Cross

Female: Clarice Auden

 **District Five:**

Male: Beckett Leighton

Female: Cassia Abbey

 **District Six:**

Male: Poet Monroe

Female: Bree Andersson

 **District Seven:**

Male: Fidan Blanchett

Female: Sawyer Fira

 **District Eight:**

Male: Clarence Loom

Female: Loralei Tenaris

 **District Nine:**

Male: Taisiya Dashnov

Female: Rhea Mandelle

 **District Ten:**

Male: Avery Billings

Female: Vendetta ''Shadow ''Ischyroe

 **District Eleven:**

Male: Kaster Navelle

Female: Ceres Morrisey

 **District Twelve:**

Male: Ocelot Harrien

Female: Ceres Golovin

* * *

 **Wow... I just realized I had two Ceres's. Well, not just, but I kinda forgot about it until I rewrote these names down and now I'm just staring at my screen. Ha... Nice xD But yeah! I just want to let you all know (again, dammit) that this was not easy at all, and I'm once again so sorry for those of you who were not accepted. I will be messaging everyone shortly, and replying to the messages that I never gave an answer to (which I'm incredibly sorry about, because my responding time is terrible). Oh, and for those of you who wondered why I removed the Bloodbath Strategy and Games Strategy and Bloodbath Tribute section of the form, it's because, well, anyone can die in the BB and I don't want to keep the tributes to a certain strategy. Switching it up will be interesting, and I know I'll enjoy doing that. (Also, nobody submits BB tributes anymore)  
**

 ** _SecretsInsideHG. Blogspot. com_ is the link to the blog, so go check it out. As usual, your reviews and feedback are always appreciated, and I would LOVE if you guys could give me a blog review. You know, like when you share your opinions on the tributes and have that list of Mine, Love, Like, Neutral, Dislike, Hate, and so on or however you choose to do it? Yeah, I'd love that from you guys, so please do that XD I'm a bit too buggy, but hey, I gotta try, right? ;)**

 **Anyway, thank you all for reading, and I know the deadline was supposed to be at midnight, but I honestly just couldn't wait anymore. And remember, you now have a tribute to submit to another SYOT that's 10x better than this one will ever be, if you didn't make it, okay? Now go! Run, children, and go submit to Jakey. Thank you, and I hope that you all have a wonderful day/night/evening/noon/whatever time it is for you.**

 **See you all later! ^-^**


	3. Determination At Its Finest

**Reapings Part One:**

* * *

 **Adonis DiMae, 18, District One Male**

* * *

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I let out a sigh. ''Today's the big day,'' I mouth to myself, shaking my head as I do. You'd expect me to be ecstatic, elated even, but I'm not – I can't be, not today. Well, not completely, at least. I'm prepared for today and I'm amazing, which is why I was chosen to volunteer.

But Aphrodite is just as amazing, which is why we're going in together. I'm not looking forward to her volunteering, but what can I do about it? Speaking to her won't work, especially since she's been looking forward to this day for the longest time – we both have. We've worked our asses off for this opportunity, and we're not about to waste it.

Leaning against my cabinet, I place my right hand on the bottom of my chin and let out a sigh. Trust me, I'm quite happy to go into the Games. I can raise hell in there, and even kill to win, but I'm not psychopathic like people see volunteers to be. What a typical stereotype...

Checking my appearance one last time, I push my golden blonde hair away from my face, making sure that I have a clear vision of wherever I'm going. I neatly place everything back in its correct spot, from my tooth paste to my towel.

Instead of going downstairs like I should be doing, I lean against the wall of my bathroom and fold my arms across my chest. Slowly shutting my eyes, I breathe in and exhale slowly, relaxing and making myself feel comfortable for a moment's notice. It's always good to be laid-back for me, because nothing stresses you out and you just feel calm.

If only more people would understand that, but they're who they are, and I'm who I am. And I am the best male trainee in District One. But even with being the best, I don't have to _act_ like the best. I'll take my time before getting serious, and when I mount that stage, I want to come off as calm and collected, not someone who's impatient and anxious to get into the Arena. There's still time, and when the time does arrive, everything can unleash.

''Adonis!'' My father's voice travels from one ear and out the other, making me jolt my eyes open. I don't even bother to reply, as I open up the bathroom door and meeting me when I do is nothing but empty, hollow silence. Slamming the door behind me shut, I begin walking down the stairs and as soon as I make it to the bottom, I'm greeted with something better – the warm smiles of my family.

''Hey, Adonis,'' my mother says kindly, her hands held out in front of her. She slowly walks up to me and wraps her arms around my waist in an embracing hug, staring up at me as she says: ''I know that you're ready for today, and I'm happy for you. You and Aphrodite both. Please, just make sure that one of you comes back to me, because I don't want you both dying.''

Now placing my arms around my mom's back, I look down at her and kiss her forehead. ''Don't worry, mom. Aphro and I will do just fine, so you don't have to worry. One of us will return to you, and as for the other... Well, we'll treat whoever dies with the most respect, okay?''

Sniffling, she wipes away a tear with her shirt and lets out an encourage sigh. ''Okay.'' She laces her fingers around mine and begins walking with me, where we stand at the head of the table and I lock eyes with my father.

''It's about time you've arrived,'' Aphro says, smacking my shoulder lightly. ''Dad's already given me my token, and we were waiting on you in order to head out. We had breakfast and everything ready, but you took too long, Adonis.''

''Hey, it's fine,'' I reassure. ''I don't need breakfast. I'm sure they'll have plenty to eat on the Train Ride to the Capitol, where you and I can stuff our faces with whatever delicacies they present.'' Even though I'm saying this now, I'm lightly shaking my head so that they can't see. The reason why I'm doing this is because I'm thinking of not volunteering, but I know that if I don't, it'll bring shame to my family.

Father will be devastatingly upset, and mother would either be relieved or disappointed – she's very indecisive, never knowing whether she'd prefer one thing or the other. And Aphro... She'd never not volunteer. She knows that this is _her_ year, and she wants to make it count. If I don't volunteer, she'll never think of me the same ever again.

''Good,'' she says, smiling at me and then soon turns away. ''Now, Father, didn't you have something to give Adonis before we leave for the Reaping? I'm sure he'd be very excited to see it.''

''Right,'' my father says. ''Adonis, come here.'' As he demands, I act out and strut towards him. When I stand right in front of him, he looks right into my eyes and reaches into his pocket, then he pulls out a pendant – the DiMae family pendant that's a heirloom passed down from father to son. And if I come back, I can pass this down to my son. ''This... This is one of the only things I have left, Adonis. I'm trusting you with this, and this is a perfect time to hand it over to you. You know why I've kept this, don't you?''

''Because Aunt Reese would kill you if you gambled that away, too.'' I ask rhetorically, rolling my eyes. My Mother gasps and my sister lets out a carefree snicker. Father gives me a forbidding look and clutches onto my shoulder tightly. ''Hey, I'm just kidding,'' I explained. ''Calm down.''

''Adonis, this is serious,'' he coughs out. ''One of you _needs_ to win the Hunger Games, because _we_ owe people. I can't keep living like this, and I require that money. Take it!'' He shoves the pendant into my hand. Funny how at first it was we, now it's just him. ''And don't come back without it. Now, let's go.''

I grab the pendant and begin walking away. Without waiting for my family, I travel across the streets of District One until I reach the Town Square. Instead of rushing, like most volunteers would, I dawdle until I reach the stamp lines and meet up with Giselle. I tap her shoulder and she quickly turns around and gives me that _what?_ look. ''Hey, Gis.''

''What, Adonis?'' She asks. Laughing, I begin to tell her about how much I don't want Aphrodite to volunteer, and every single time Aphro's name comes up, Gis can't help but let out a cherry blossomed blush. ''Uh-huh,'' she says, nodding her head until we reach the front of the line. ''Okay, Adonis, shut up, would you?''

''Are you-''

Something bumps into me, and I'm pushed forward, which leads to Giselle getting bumped. The both of us turn around concurrently and snarl at the small child who stands there and looks at us with wide eyes. ''What the hell is wrong with you?'' We say at the same time. ''Are you blind, you fucking idiot? Go back to your mom so she can fucking teach you how to walk properly, because she honestly didn't do a good job at raising you!''

The kid begins quivering as Giselle and I turn and look at each other. Funny how we both voiced the exact same words at the exact same time. She's exactly my type of girl – but I know she doesn't swing for guys, which honestly sucks. ''Well, that was brutal.'' Aphrodite says. ''Just like the good 'ol Adonis that I know. You ready for this?''

''Yeah,'' I say bluntly. Looking around for Giselle, I realize that she left as soon as Aphrodite appeared and is just... gone. I get my fingers pricked and go to the eighteen-year-old male section. Just as I arrive, the entire audience of District One begins to let out cheers and screams and hollers of joy. Staring up, I notice that last year's Victor – Hero – just arrived with his adopted daughter. I guess you could call her that.

I slowly begin to zone out and don't manage to realize that the mayor has mounted the stage, read the Treaty of Treason, left, and let Palmea Jouier – District One's escort who's been here for more than a decade – introduce the video that the Capitol had presented for us, and already has her hand in the females' bowl. She anxiously takes out the slip, already knowing that a volunteer will arise as soon as the name is read. ''Piper Wildon!'' She announces.

Thrusting my head to the right, dreading the moment that my twin raises her hand up into the air and yells out the forsaken words, I begin to sweat but keep calm under the pressure. Every girl in the eighteen-year-old section moves out of Aphro's way and leaves an opening for her until someone yells out, ''I volunteer!''

A beautiful girl with features of a model and flowing black hair quickly runs up to the stage, and as I stare at Aphro, I watch as her mouth gapes wide open and her eyebrows furrow. She clenches her fist and it seems as if steam is rising from the top of her head. I don't even dare to let her see me staring, and turn back to see Gari – the Victor before Hero – jump up from his seat and give the girl a deathly glare.

She wastes no time and grabs the mic from Palmea. ''The name's Blush Belfleur, and can we just give a round of applause for our Victor there, Gari?'' I begin to snort to myself. This is gonna be good. ''Never let a man do a woman's job because we all know that Gari isn't capable of bringing back another tribute, or letting out the truth, now is he? There's a lot you all don't know about him, and I promise to reveal _everything_ when I get back.''

Blush hands the mic back to Palmea; she doesn't even bother to say anything. She quickly rushes over towards males' bowl. Unfolding the slip that she grabbed, she begins to announce the name of the boy. ''Aragio Cormat-''

''I volunteer!'' I yell out fully, but unlike before when I was dreading it, I feel good about this. Aprhodite won't be at a risk of dying, and I can go all-out in these Games. Nothing could get better than this moment right here. I ascend the stage and introduce myself before Palmea is able to ask. ''Adonis DiMae, District One's very own chosen volunteer. I promise to bring back goods and riches for all of you, and you can count on my words!''

''Give a round of applause for your tributes, District One: Blush Belfleur and Adonis DiMae!'' Everyone begins clapping, even Aunt Reese. She sits in her Victor's chair but gives me a weird look, one that's kinda relieved but upset that Aphrodite wasn't able to volunteer. I shrug and look back into the sea of kids, where I lock eyes with Aphro. Nothing good comes from her look, especially when she mouths the words ''Kill that bitch.''

Bobbing my head, I make her a silent promise and then turn to Blush. ''Thank you!'' I drawled. ''Thank you so much!'' She gives me a quizzical look, but I don't even bother to pay any sort of attention to it.

''For what?''

''For volunteering,'' I add. ''Now I can play these Games properly.''

* * *

 **Clarice Auden, 18, District Four Female**

* * *

 _Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Instantly waking up to the sound of my alarm, I throw the covers off of my body and roll out of bed. Quickly opening my door, I carefully stare at every child who opens theirs as well, and they all take a peak at each other. They see this as some type of game – for whoever can make it to the bathroom first – but I see it as competition and race ahead.

One of the little boys tries to open up his door fully but I slam it shut and watch as his fingers get crumbled on the outside, turning into a disgusting shade of violet as the blood stops circulating in his fingers. A little girl thinks she can get ahead of me, but I reach out, grab her ponytail and twist, then slam her onto the floor.

''Ow!'' She yells, grabbing her head. ''I'm gonna tell on you!'' Turning back to give the young girl a glimpse, I tell her just how much I care in the most sarcastic way possible, and open up the doors to the bathroom; I manage to groom myself and get everything done in under ten minutes, so I start heading downstairs.

''Guys, come eat!'' Milah yells. Smiling to myself, I make it to the kitchen and observe as she places down bowls of waffles and glasses of milk, her mother handing her the food. She notices me and gives me a welcoming nod, along with a smile that makes me tingle on the inside. ''Hey, Clarice!''

''Hey, Milah,'' I return. She places a bowl right beside mine and sets three waffles – one number more than what I have – on it. Pursing my lips, I reach in and take one from the plate just as the little girl that I pushed down earlier this morning takes a seat next to me. She yells out at me and tries to reach for her waffle, but I smack her hand away and munch down on it.

''HEY!'' She screams. ''You can't just take my food like that!''

''Be quiet,'' I demand. ''I'm volunteering today, so I have to get something to eat. Two waffles isn't enough to fill my appetite.''

''Yeah, well you're not even in the Hunger Games yet!''

Growing unsteady, I try to maintain my calm and tell her, ''But I will be.'' She frowns and demands that I give her back the food that she rightfully deserves. ''Listen, kid,'' I grab her shirt. ''This basically _is_ the Hunger Games. It's survival of the fittest, and if you're not down here early enough to get your own food, or fast enough to get to the bathroom first, then that's your problem, not mine. Grow a pair and deal with it!''

''Hmph!'' She pouts. ''It's not like you'd even be able to win the Hunger Games with that attitude! You're rude, annoying, mean, bossy, and don't even count as a tribute! I bet that if you even joined the Careers, they'd turn on you in an instance and kill you right off the bat, because you're a failur—''

She's unable to finish her sentence when I smash the waffle into her face and backhand slap her. Milah lets out a shrill scream and I grab the bottle of milk from the table, only to smack it across the child's face. She yells on the floor, me on top of her with my fists repeatedly moving up and down, back and forth, until I see her weaknesses and fear take over her. ''Don't ever tell me that I'd never win!'' I grunt. ''Don't ever call me a failure!''

''So God help me, if I don't-'' Milah runs over and grabs my arms, the soft, tender feeling of her skin taking me aback. I quickly stop, not even letting Milah tell me to stop, because I can't continue this, especially not if she wants me to. I owe her almost everything, and I understand when I'm taking things a little too far. Plus, letting anger get over me this early isn't good for myself. ''Damn.''

I look down at the girl and turn back to Milah. ''Clarice... Don't do it, please. This isn't helping,'' she states. ''I understand all the frustration that's deep inside of you, but... Is it really worth it? Is doing all of this, going in to hurt people, really worth the goals that you have set for yourself? Jesus Christ, Clarice, this is like when you almost killed that boy back at the Academy... She's a little girl! Don't-''

''I get it,'' I sigh, my anger quickly dissipating. ''But yes, it is worth it, and I'm carrying out with it. I have to thank you, Milah, for everything that you've done. I don't wanna waste any time, so I'll be heading out now.''

''But why? Why volunteer?'' She asks, flustered. ''Revenge is never good! And when you gain that revenge, you only regret it in the end, Clarice! What if you don't come back? Don't leave me!''

''You know why,'' I shake my head. ''If I don't do it, then my life isn't worth living. I'd be _failing_. I have to achieve the goals that I set for myself, and getting my revenge is the only way that I can do that; and volunteering is the only way that I can get my revenge. You and your mother are my only friends, Milah. And you know that I'd never leave you. Just believe in me, please?''

With that, I exit the Community Home and begin my walk to The Square. As I'm walking, I make sure to pass by the ocean and listen to the sweet sounds. The ocean breeze whispers like a lover, placing salty kisses on my cheek and tousles my long brown hair. Although it's nice, I never forget that this breeze is just a mere hint of power, that when roused it can toss whole ships like toys to smash on the rocks.

Something that I desire being able to do to certain people.

Closing my eyes as I walk, I carefully listen to the lullaby of the ocean, while breathing in its poignant, salty breath.

''Clary!''

My eyes shoot open, and looking ahead of the view, I see Adriana Lamille and her family walking to The Square. They all linger in front of me for longer than I expected, but I don't mind it. It's just that the sight of the family isn't very pleasant. I'm upset, confused and frustrated all at the same time.

''Hey, Adriana!'' I call out. Once I reach the entire family, I put on the cheeriest face that I could possibly administer. ''Hey, all, how are you guys doing today?'' I specifically eye their mother, Bridget Lamille. It's hard not to give her a scowl, but I'm doing as well as I can, as of now.

''Clary, how are you?'' Adriana asks again, and I answer her, saying that I'm doing well. Baby Rickon begins clapping his hands and stares up at me, while Aidan – who I hate – still manages to make me smile just with his appearance. ''Glad to hear that! We were just heading to the Reaping. Would you like to walk with us?''

''No, no, it's fine,'' I tell her. Looking at this girl makes my heart drop a little bit. I'm just using her to get to Bridget – to get to _mom_ – but I feel guilty. She's so sweet and I just feel inclined to protect her from such a bad person. Her and the other kids are the only people in this world that I can't let Bridget destroy. They don't deserve it... My brothers and my sister... None of them.

''Are you sure, Clary?'' I hate that nickname, but since it's Adriana, I always let it slide. Baby Rickon lets out a verbatim sentence and I can't help but smile, while Aidan has already left the family. ''You're always welcome to do anything with us, you know?''

''It's fine,'' I reassure. ''Go on without me, I'll be good on my own!'' She nods her head and leaves with the rest of the family. But to my surprise, Bridget doesn't go and excuses herself from everybody else, marching towards the ocean instead of The Square. What a perfect opportunity to confront her, to let out everything that I've been holding in.

But no. Not now. After, and if, I win the Games, I'll let everything out. I'll let Adriana and the rest know exactly who I am, and I'll tell Bridget everything and gain my revenge; let her know how I feel and all about what she's done to me.

Every single thing.

I continue to think about the entire family as I make my way to The Square. While walking forward, I notice the dirty looks that everyone around begins to give me. It's not surprising; I have a bad reputation in this District for doing so many things.

I use people, take what I want and do what I want, even hurt people sometimes unwillingly, but that's only because they've managed to anger me to the point where there was no holding back. People need to understand that others have a certain way of dealing with things, and my way is by having everything exactly how I want it to be.

Controlling my anger is a challenge, but at the Academy, that's the first thing they teach you to do, and I've learned and benefited from it. Now, I just need to learn to do that when I'm in the Arena, but everything has to go according to plan, whether people like it or not.

Wanting to get this over with, I push through all of the lined trainees and make my way to the front of the line. Poking out my finger, I let the Peacekeeper stamp it with a needle and accumulate a sample of my blood.

Walking to the eighteen-year-old female section, I patiently wait for everyone to finish. They finish sooner than I expected, which allows the Mayor of District Four to get the Treaty of Treason out of the way so that the Escort can speak. I don't bother to pay attention to her, or the video that's playing. I just wait for her to call out the female's name so that I can volunteer already – and she finally does. ''Marissa Collard!''

''I volunteer!'' I waste no time and rush out of my aisle, turn on my engines and bolt up the stage. The Escort doesn't even open her mouth, because I don't allow her to, and I introduce myself. ''Clarice Auden. I have a goal to achieve, and I won't stop until I get what I want.''

''Well, thank you, dear,'' she says. ''It doesn't seem like you'll disappoint, and I bet your District can't wait to see you in the Arena.'' She walks over to the males' bowl. ''Anyway, the male tribute is... Damian Barell!''

''I volunteer!'' Someone in the audience yells. The boy walks out, and I squint my eyes when I see that he's not- Wait, I see now... I forgot, the chosen male volunteer this year injured his neck in a training accident and someone was called in for backup. The boy steadily walks up and stares straight forward, but sweat drips on his body from head to toe.

He looks like he's under some serious pressure, but everyone who's chosen to volunteer is. Except for me. I'm ready for this, and I want this. Without this, my life won't get any better. It's my only chance, and I'm not wasting the opportunity that I've been given. This is like a gift for me – something special that's been granted, something that I can use to gain the answers that I've been searching for, to prevent something from happening a second, third, and fourth time.

The boy gets closer and closer, and when he finally gets on top of the stage, he introduces himself.

''Hi. My name is Zeppelin Cross, your replacement volunteer. I promise that I'll do the District proud and make sure that you have yet another tribute coming home. I'll carry the strength of all of you, each and every single one of your wills, and carry it to Victory as best as I possibly can. I hope for your support, and thank you for this opportunity. This has always been a lifelong dream of mine, and I don't intend on wasting it. Once I get into the Arena, I promise I'll do everything to make this District Proud. And mark my words, I won't just do my best to make sure one of us comes home,'' he breathes. ''I'll assure it!''

When he says this, he stares out at one person, like he's reaffirming something that they told him to say specifically. But then he turns and looks at me, and just like him, something just clicks. I've seen his face before, and I know him. For a second, all of the noise around us is muffled and I'm brought into a deep thought. I'm barely able to hear the audience's applause, because memories begin flashing in my head, float around like a river, and I start reminiscing about... Zeppelin.

''You... I know you!'' I say. ''You were in the Community Home before, weren't you? Three years ago, in High School..! Wow!''

''Give it up for your tributes, District Four: Clarice Auden and Zeppelin Cross!''

''Yeah! It's been a while. And now look at us, going into the Games together.''

For some reason, he just calms me down. Like, I feel as if he's the only person that can make me feel safe, or just not angry, or confused, or upset, or any type of other terrible feeling. This is honestly such a shock, because he was probably one of the only people that I befriended back then- No! Not one of the only – he _was_ the only friend I had.

And now I'm reunited with him. We were such great friends who got along well, so everything can go back to how it was before, hopefully. We'll work well together in the Games. We can rule the competition!

Suddenly, I feel so relaxed knowing that there's someone I'll be able to get along with.

''Time sure has changed, hasn't it?''

* * *

 **Bree Andersson, 17, District Six Female**

* * *

Slamming my hammer down against the tire wheel, I make sure that the iron nail enters the smooth rims for this newly developed vehicle that our current blueprints require us to make. My arms begin to tire but I continue to work as hard as I can, making sure that I get the job done before the Reaping Bell chimes and signals for me to make my way down to The Square.

My skin begins to take on a glossy shine and salty drops invade my eyes. Despite this, I keep moving, but the sweat is a welcoming addition, cooling and helping me feel like I'm working hard. I don't stop, though, continuing to hammer harder than anyone else in this rusty, dirty, crusty old factory, but it's not until my arms finally give up when I realize just how wet my clothing has become.

''Damn, Bree,'' Miles calls out. He crosses his legs together and uses my shoulder as an arm rest while giving me a beam and crinkling his eyes. Nice. What a well-meaning smile. ''Why work so hard? We don't have to take today seriously, remember? And the way you're stroking your arm while hammering down on that rim, you're so passionate about it!''

''You know that I take my work seriously,'' I roll my eyes. ''I love it. This is my life, and you know how aspiring this is for me. If I didn't have this, not much would be going on for me right now.''

''Well, you sure have proven your worth for this factory,'' he states, patting me on the head. ''You're incredible with these vehicle preparations, and probably the best worker here. Remember when you first came here and everyone was all like, 'Oh, a young girl like her could never live up to our expectations'?'' I nod my head. ''Yeah, well look who's proved them wrong. You've grown on us a lot, Bree – who knew that six years could pass by so quickly?''

''I owe it to the best of the best, Miles. After all, you did teach me about all this. Through hell and back, we've been in this together, and this factory is like a second home to me.'' Miles lets out an 'aw' and starts laughing. ''And yeah, time does go by fast. Just imagine, in one more year I'll be completely free from the Games! And this is your last Reaping, so that's even better! And after three more years – which seems like a long time – Evan will be over with the Reaping, too!''

''Yeah! And we can live life freely!''

''Yeah, freely.'' I laugh, but quickly stop after I realize what he just said. ''Because free means that we don't have to work, provide for our families, buy food, live in a home, and figure out what to do with the rest of our lives, right?'' Miles just stands there and looks at me, but he's used to my sarcasm by now. ''Think, Miles! Nothing comes free in Panem, you should know that!''

''Go easy on him, Bree,'' Gunvor breaks in. ''You know how Miles thinks. Although it may not be the best way, the kid still has a good head on his shoulders and knows what he's talking about. You know he just doesn't think it out thoroughly. Go easy on the sarcasm.''

''Yeah, I get you, Gunvor,'' I sigh. ''But sometimes people oughta repeat the thoughts that they have in their minds _before_ speaking, don't you think?'' Together, we all share gleaming smiles. ''Now, if you guys will excuse me, I gotta finish up the tires before I can clock out. I'd rather get this out of the way early so that after the Reaping, I can get back to it and finish the last two.''

Just as I'm about to begin hammering again, Miles grabs my wrist and says, ''Come on, Bree.'' He won't stop groaning. ''Take a damn break. We have like, twenty minutes left!''

''And twenty minutes is enough time to get another rim done, as well as maybe even twenty-five percent of another rim.'' Turning back, I grab the air pumper and place it into the tire's hole, begin pumping until it turns into an adequate shape and the feeling is sufficient and plump enough to the point where it can last months on end without needing any reparations.

The rims look nice, the bolts are screwed on nice and tight into the wheels, and now the only thing left to do is paint it so that it can go well with the color of the vehicle. Just as I'm about to grab my the blue and red spray paint – patriotic much? – I hear coworkers yelling at someone.

Multiple clangs hit the floor. At least ten coworkers begin to surround one person, which catches my attention. Putting down my equipment, I grab a cloth rag from the table and wipe the paint from my hands and face off, then I make it towards the group and see an opening.

Catching a glimpse of Evan, my friend, I watch as in a haste to leave the oil can on the counter, he pushes it forward, but it doesn't slide as he intended it to. His grasp is too weak and it slips, free falling to the concrete floor. His hand shoots after it, only to grab at the air and instead he's rewarded with the sickening crack of hard metal and stone, and the oil leaks from the container all over the floor like a puddle, staining everyone's pant legs heavily.

Looking up after his accident, Evan does nothing but gulp as the sweat trickles down his back, free flowing like condensation on a window pane, beads on his forehead and drips from his chin. Everyone instantly gets on Evan's ass and starts pushing him around in the circle, shouting all types of curses as he tries to apologize.

''I'm sorry!'' He tries.

''What's sorry gonna do at a moment like this, kid?!''

''Yeah! We have five minutes until the bells chime and you just knock oil off the fucking counter and get the floor soaked!''

''How are we supposed to clean this up in time?!''

''You're gonna get a-''

''HEY!'' I yell, pushing through everyone. I now stand in the middle of the circle and clutch onto Evan's shoulders, stopping him from falling to the ground. ''What the hell is wrong with all of you, picking on a little boy like that?! It was an accident, okay? He didn't mean for it to happen, so it doesn't matter! Anyway, it's just a little bit of oil – nothing too big. So why do you need to complain?!''

It's dead quiet now, nobody daring to make any sort of movement or contact or utter out a simple word. ''Neither of you have anything to say to me, yet you would gladly get on a child! You're all grown men, older than eighteen, so stop being childish and act your damn age!''

The bells go off just as I finish yelling, and even after that, nobody moves. Not until our boss tells us all to clear out and keep all of the tools where they are – we'll clean them and finish work later, after the Reaping. Evan stares up at me with his bright green eyes that look pleading. I bring my finger up and wipe the dirty oil from under the bags near his eyes, and then wrap my arm around his shoulder.

''Come on, we need to start heading out.'' Dragging him behind me with my arm around his neck, I bring him with me to the site of where Miles and Gunvor are located, standing there with their helmets in their hands and rag towels thrown over their masculine and feminine shoulders. ''Ready to head out, guys? Nothing forgotten, nothing lost?''

''No...'' Evan answers for everyone, staring down at the ground. I squeeze my arm tighter around his neck, making him look up and stare out at the rest of us. We all begin laughing except for Evan who seems to be sulking over here, but that doesn't stop us all from having our little bit of fun while walking to the Reaping together.

On our way there, I don't spot a single glimpse of my family at all. Mom, Dad, and Laura will be hard to spot because they don't have to get their fingers pricked, while Alfie and Cam are probably already in their sections – and that doesn't make finding them any easier; they're both pretty small, so there's no way I'd be able to see them.

After meaningless conversations, we all finally split when Miles, Evan and I get our fingers pricked, and the two of them head out but soon separate into their age groups. Gunvor walks to the back where all the adults are located, her brown hair blending in well with her tan skin. She does her best to keep on an optimistic face, despite her hatred for the Games and the Capitol. I calmly walk to the seventeen-year-old female section and observe Dallas Marone – District Six's new Escort – take the stage and play the Capitol's video after our Mayor – a strong, wealthy woman – delivers the Treaty of Treason.

''Welcome, District Six!'' He calls out. ''Isn't it _exciting_ to be back? Wonderful, right? Our past few years weren't much of a success, but hopefully we'll get there soon! What do you think?''

Nothing but silence.

''I think you're a little too excited, buddy!'' I shout. Everyone around me begins laughing, but I didn't realize I said it that loud. Honestly, I thought I whispered it, but I guess not. He starts scanning the sections for whoever said it – me – but soon gives up and struts over to the females' bowl.

Forcefully, he dips his hand into the bowl while continuing to hold the microphone in his hand, and as soon as he grabs a slip that feels 'natural' in his hands, he whispers in the microphone, ''I hope you get called up, you little shit- I mean, darling..!'' And with a nervous chuckle, he unfolds the envelope and calls out the female's name.

''Bree Andersson!'' The girls all around me start to give me scared looks, their eyes basically popping out of their sockets. But for me... This is completely different. All of the girls begin moving away, leaving a clear pathway for me to walk out of.

The fear sits on me like a pillow over my mouth and my nose. There's enough oxygen that gets by it, though, allowing my body to keep functioning properly, but it's crippling all the same. My head hesitantly turns to everyone, but I know that nobody is going to save me. From the back, I hear muffled screams that call out ''Sis!'' and ''No, you can't take her!'' Instantly, my family flashes in my mind, leaving me shaking in my clothes.

I begin to walk, talk quietly, and smile like I always do, making sure to keep my calm, but my insides are dying slowly. There isn't an adult I know who can handle this, let alone a child like myself, but every year something like this happens – everyone just prays that it isn't _them_ who gets called on.

When I finally arrive onto the stage, Dallas presses the microphone against his lips and smirks, saying, ''Well, aren't you quiet.'' He continues on. ''How are you feeling, sweetheart? Anything that you'd like to say to your District, in front of the _entire_ Nation, and your family? Anything at all?'' He pushes the microphone right next to my lips.

Although it hasn't left, the fear takes a much tighter grip over me and begins to suffocate my entire body. It's telling my legs to go weak, to collapse and to start crying; for my stomach to lurch and for my heart to ache. Mom and dad always told me that there was nothing to fear but fear itself, but I just can't seem to handle this. And everyone could see it when I spoke with my crackling voice.

''N-N-No... I-I'll d-d-do m-my... b-b-best t-to come b-back...''

''Aw, how cute!'' Dallas walks back and shoves his hand into the males' bowl. Right now, I wish my family were here embracing me, wrapping me around in a hug and keeping me safe and away from all of the world's harm. I wish they were at the factory today; I wish the Reaping never existed; I wish the Hunger Games never existed; I wish the Capitol would just rot, burn, and crumble in flames!

Tears begin blinding my vision and I can feel them welling up in the corner of my eyes – but I make sure not to cry. I can't appear weak in front of the Capitol or the entire Nation. My parents wouldn't want that from me, and neither would my siblings.

''And your male tribute is...'' He holds out the suspense. ''Poet Monroe!''

Like what everyone did with me, a whole circle of guys completely back away and leave a wide opening for the male tribute to be seen. It's as if everyone is a mile away from him, as he just stands there and blinks for a couple of seconds; like he's just letting it all sink into reality, like he doesn't believe his name was called.

''Oh, Poet Monroeeeeee!'' Dallas says it again, this time dragging out the 'e'. Poet just stands there in absolute shock, his eyes staring off into space and his body collapsing on him. The boy's knees begin to give in weight and almost cause him to fall, but he somehow keeps his body up and erect after a few seconds. How he did it, I don't think anybody will ever find out.

His face loses all pigment of color and he's left looking like a ghost white sheet, with the tears guarding his vision. Peacekeepers grow impatient and begin marching towards him with their batons locked, but it's like his feet kick into overdrive and he moves on his own quicker than expected. When he makes it out of the aisle, though, his movement is slow and pitiful. His face is shown to the entirety of Panem, everyone with their gaze locked on him.

The boy silently hyperventilates until he gets up on the stage and is asked if he has anything to say to District Six – his reply is nothing but short-cut breathes that he struggles to hold back. ''You're no fun,'' Dallas complains. ''Anyway,'' he sighs. ''Give it up for another pair of tributes who AREN'T going to win the Games, District Six: Bree Andersson and Poet Monroe!''

There's no response. I know that tensing against the shaking of my limbs is useless but I do it instinctively, trying to suppress for a few more moments what I know I can't. I need to swallow in the silence to counteract the fear that threatens to engulf me completely.

So, I do what I can at this moment and grab Poet's hand. Raising it high up in the air, I bring his body closer to mine and face the District, his body vibrantly shaking.

''District Six!'' I announce, my voice constantly trembling. ''We will f-fight, w-we will r-rise, and we will c-conquer! I will p-p-promise you that Poet and I, with all of our p-power, will do e-everything that we can to a-assure the V-Victory this year. We'll put in the work, effort, and c-compromise properly in order to w-win!''

Closing my mouth now, I breathe heavily but steadily and listen to the silent clapping that I know of as my father's signature clap. The rough but loud, clammy but resonating sound that is always expanded by the joining in of others. And soon, we're standing high and mighty in front of the entire District, like a King and Queen. Like we rule the stage.

Like we're prepared. Even though we know we're not.

* * *

 **Kaster Navelle, 16, District Eleven Male**

* * *

Looking past the corner, I peer at both of my parents silently arguing. This again. Mom has the patience to deal with Dad, and she's trying to keep her voice down, but it's just plain awkward for me to watch this. Dad is standing his ground, not faltering to anything that she says. Things like this have been going on for so long now that I think I'm used to it – and I am.

''Listen!'' Dad silently shouts, flapping his hands in the air. ''This isn't about us! It's about the kids! Do you think I honestly care about this nonsense? If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't be here right now, wasting my time with this ignorant argument!''

''I understand that,'' Mom squeezes her forehead with her thumb and index finger, the vein in her forehead twitching. ''I'm trying to reason with you, trying to tell you that arguing all the time isn't good for us or the kids. Do you know how much this would affect Eshlyn if she heard us barking at each other like this?''

''What about Kaster?'' Dad questions. ''What if Kaster overhears? He's older, he would understand more, but it would break him. I get what you're saying, but I truly care for my kids!''

''I do, too!'' Mom loses her temper. ''But I'm positive that Kaster already knows. Do you think he's deaf? He's probably heard us going at each other's throats every day! Imagine how many times he's stayed up in bed, eyes wide open while listening to the both of us dispute..''

''Then can we just stop?'' Dad proposes. ''I'm tired of all this, and I know you are, too! If you weren't so difficult, maybe this would all work out properly.''

''Oh, there you go again!'' Mom screams. ''Always putting the blame on me! Well, if you weren't so inconsiderate, maybe we wouldn't be arguing! If you didn't leave, maybe we wouldn't be in this mess! If you didn't make me go on a search hunt for you and get you into agreeing to take care of our children _together_ , as _partners_ , and act like _lovers_ , then maybe we'd-''

''You know just as much as I do that this isn't about loving! We're both in this because of the kids-''

Cutting in, I turn the corner and begin speaking. ''Hey, Mom, Dad.'' They both instantly stop fighting and turn to face me, forcing on smiles that I know are fake. ''Can I go outside? The Reaping is soon and all, so I want to get there quickly.''

''Absolutely not!'' My mother runs over to me. ''Now, go back inside your room and wait until the bells chime. It's raining heavily out there, can't you see? Just wait for us and we'll let you know when we're going out.''

I turn to my Dad and eye him, but no response comes from his mouth, so I move my head to the side, turn my body, and walk to my room. When I get there, Reese and Isabelle look at me, both of them bouncing up and down. ''So what'd they say?'' Reese asks. ''Can we go out or not?''

''Nah,'' I sigh. ''My mom said that I can't go because it's raining outside.''

Isabelle quickly stops bouncing. ''What, and you're just gonna start listening to what people say?'' I nod. Both her and Reese give me skeptical looks, sharing brief sighs. ''Seriously, Kas? I gave up my breakfast just for a little adrenaline, and you disappoint me with this cra-''

''Psyche!'' I laugh. ''Of course we're going out! When have I ever listened to what anyone's said? Now come on, let's go before they realize that we're gone.''

Opening up my window, I push it forward and let Reese crawl out first, then Isabelle goes out and I soon follow after her, placing my hands on her waist to help her out of the window carefully. Just as she lands safely and I pop my head out of the window, I hear an ''Ahem'' from the background.

''Dammit, Eshlyn!'' I groan. She walks over to me and tugs on my leg, and I kick back at her, but softly so that I can nudge her away. She punches my leg and we both begin to laugh, fighting in good nature. ''Okay, okay, stop, Eshlyn!''

''No!'' She pouts. ''I want to know where you're going.''

''I'm going out... to the Reaping.'' I lie. ''You shouldn't care, okay? It's nothing important, I just want to get there early. You should stay back inside with Mom and Dad so that they can walk you there safely.''

''You're lying to me.''

''You're such a nuisance, you know that?'' I call her out, yanking my leg away from her. Although I called her that, I don't believe it. I'm never able to convince myself that she actually is – and I know she's not.

''Can I come with you guys?''

''To the Reaping? No.''

''I know you're not going there, so stop lying!''

''Leave me alone. I'm not going anywhere special, so just stay here and keep quiet.'' After that, I jump out of my window and close it shut just as she begins running towards it. After that, I rub my hands together and turn towards Reese and Isabelle. ''So, are we ready?''

''You're a lying bastard, Kas!'' She bangs on my window. ''I'm still going out! I don't care what you say, asshole! I'm doing what I want!'' She's picked up so much from me – maybe too much. It's a shame.

They both nod. The icy gray sky restlessly grumbles. The thick, blackened clouds are dragged down by the heavy rain that held in its delicate frame. Soon, the clouds struggle to withstand the burden of the weight that the rain held and gave in. Rain pours down over District Eleven in a roar. Emptiness sounds through the air, but it's soon disrupted by the gregarious boom of thunder. Rain pierces my dark and wet skin as well as Isabelle and Reese's, so our automatic reaction is to start running across the slippery grass.

''Where are we going?'' Reese asks me, and Isabelle gives me a curious look. Turning my head to Reese, I just give him a nod and he begins laughing, while Isabelle grows confused. Turning to her now, I grab her hand and squeeze it tightly, her warmth dissipating as the rain continues to pour. Her posture becomes weakened by the weight of her soaked clothes and she begins to slow down. I wrap my arm around her stomach and waist and pull her closer to me, supporting and pressing her body against mine so that she can keep up.

The quality of darkness shifts in the sky but the rain keeps pouring. As harsh as it is, the rain obliterates the once crystal reflection of the sky and turns it into disorientated chaos. ''Thanks, Kas,'' Isabelle says. ''But seriously, where are we going?''

''To the fields,'' I breathe. ''I overheard Peacekeepers talking about collecting food there, from others, that is. They'll have baskets of bread, apples – which you know I hate – cheese, ham, and so much more! It could help your family out, Isabelle!''

She stays quiet, still pressed up against me. We finally make it there and she begins to speak again. ''Who's leading this time, Reese?''

''No, no, no,'' Reese quickly objects. ''I can't. Let Kas lead, we'll just follow. The thrill and adventure of this is all I'm in for, not leading.'' He looks stressed out, but I know that by now – he can't deal with leadership. Cracking my knuckles, I look up to get a clear picture and there are at least five Peacekeepers there.

''Ready?'' I ask, unable to control my excitement. Isabelle looks kinda sad, but she masks it well with a smile. She nods her head, and when I turn to look at Reese, he's already running – my Partner In Crime is sprinting there, so we jump up and follow, but I quickly get ahead of him. ''Let's go!''

The Peacekeepers hear my voice and turn around quickly, but not quick enough to grab either of us. Isabelle grabs an entire basket and carries it upwards, slamming it into a Peacekeeper's face. Reese grabs multiple plastic bags filled with pounds of food and swings them outwards, hitting two Peacekeepers at once. I, on the other hand, jump right on top of the table and kick a basket of apples out. The Peacekeepers are taken by surprise and I begin to laugh.

One of them grabs an apple and flexes his muscle like he's been in a gym forever, and crushes it with a tight, one-handed squeeze. I instantly stop laughing, but that doesn't remove the smirk on my face. ''Screw you guys!'' I yell at them, and jump off of the table. Starting our engines, but not before I grab two plastic bags just like Reese, we begin to run, and hot on our tails are the Peacekeepers.

They catch up quite quickly, actually, but we all put up fights. I drop to the ground as soon as one of them lays a finger on me, making sure that he ends up face-planting. When I think I'm in for the clear, the muscular Peacekeeper lifts me up with both hands and breathes in my face.

''You're caught. Give up,'' he says. ''It's not worth the waste.'' Struggling, I continue to fight him off. I'm determined to get out of here with all of this valuable food, and I will. Reese and Isabelle both look back and I try to yell, to tell them to run away, but they're quickly caught as well. Still fighting, I elbow the Peacekeeper in the face. ''Are you serious, kid? I thought you were just determined at first, but I realize now that you're just lacking intelligence, because you don't know when you're beat.''

Most people would think that the man has a point, but I just don't care for his opinions. Not holding back, I yell out, ''I hate all of you stupid Peacekeepers! I fucking wish you were all dead!'' My fingers curl tightly into a balled fist, and in my mind, I can imagine the man's neck snapping, my fist smashing into his nose, splattering blood on the dirty grass. Burning rage hisses through my body like deadly poison, screeching a demanding release in the form of wanted violence. It was a volcano erupting; fury sweeping off me like ferocious waves. The wrath consumes me, engulfs my moralities and destroys the boundaries I had.

I attack the Peacekeeper and smash my fists into his face over and over again until he falls; then, my foot collides with his head multiple times, leaving a blood-stained bruise. As soon as that happens, I quickly turn back towards my friends and run towards them, swing the bags at the other Peacekeepers, and begin running away with them.

I could have just left, but I would never do that. The betrayal that I would feel, leaving them to get in trouble... I just couldn't live with myself like that. We're always, partners until the end, and it'll stay like that until the day we all die – even after death, the ones who still live will care for each other. The Reaping Bell rang a while ago, back when we were at the fight, and although the thunder blocked most of it out, I still heard the faint noise.

We arrive at the Square and everyone's already there. Reese and I stare at each other, then he gives me a nod and hurries to get his finger pricked. ''We'll go back for more later.'' Isabelle and I stay back, and I know that she's thinking about volunteering. I quickly grab her shoulders and turn her around to make her face me, the both of us breathing roughly.

''Don't do it, Isabelle. I know you're thinking about it.'' She nods her head, but a tear trickles down her cheek. ''I promise, all you gotta do is support them. Reese and I will be right there to help you through it, along with our families. I _promise_.''

Isabelle nods her head and I wipe the tear away from her cheek. The both of us just stay in that position for a couple of minutes – until even after the Escort and Mayor have introduced their parts – and lock our gazes into each other's eyes.

What happens next, though, I was completely unprepared for. You'd think that after all the time I'd spent with Isabelle – watching her talk, laugh and frown – that I'd know all there was to know about her lips. But I hadn't imagined how warm they would feel pressed up against mine. ''Thank you, Kas.'' She says, pulling away from me. Quickly, she goes and gets her fingers pricked, and I follow after, thinking about what just happened.

Never before has my name ever felt so wonderful coming out of someone else's mouth.

''Ceres Morrisey!'' Our Escort yells. When I get to my section, a girl walks out of the seventeen-year-old section with her fists clenched and teeth bared. There are tears in her eyes, but she doesn't dare let them fall. Her eyes are blood red, looking as if she just snorted a Ziploc bag full of kush that was delivered by a Xan man. She's either plugged in or angry – I'm going with angry.

But who wouldn't be? When she gets to the stage, the Escort asks her if she'd like to say anything, but she just shakes her head. She looks straight through the crowd, not daring to show any hint of hesitation or emotion. I respect her for that. Now my attention focuses on the Escort. He dips his hand into the males' bowl and quickly rips out an envelope.

''Kaster Navelle!''

Shit! Looking back and forth, I listen to a loud gasp that comes from Isabelle, and I hear Reese pushing through other guys just to get to me. ''KASTER! KASTER, DON'T GO!'' I stand in my same position for far too long so the Peacekeepers begin to march at me. I've gotta get out, without showing hesitation of fear, but it's honestly gripping onto me right now. My feet are just stuck there, as if I'm frozen in place.

Well, until I clench my fists just like Ceres did, and just like that, I break everything off. Unable to contain my anger, I begin to grit my teeth and leave them bare, wide open so that the Capitol sees how furious I am. I get on the stage and keep my eyes locked on the Escort. Behind me, a Victor jumps out of his seat and yells, ''WHOA, THAT KID'S GET ANGER IN HIS EYES!'' I turn to see Conly pouncing excitedly. ''HE'S GONNA DO WELL IN THE GAMES! I CAN SEE IT ALREADY! HE'S GONNA BREAK SHIT! HE'S A STORM TO BE UNLEASHED, TRUST ME! THERE'S SOMETHING IN THAT KID'S EYES, AND IT'S NOT KINDNESS! THERE'S A STORM BREWING!''

You know, I honestly wouldn't be shocked if the Capitol rigged the Reaping. I've been in troubled occasions with Peacekeepers multiple times. They could have had something to do with this. I don't think anybody in the District would be shocked if so, because my actions are ''rebellious.'' They're not; I just voice my opinion, but let them see it the way that they do. They want to get rid of me because they can't contain me, and I'm fine by that. They'll see.

The Escort asks me a question but I completely ignore it. Glancing over at Ceres, my face casts a dead-pan look to as much as I can manage, yet I fail. At the corner of my would-be sombre lips is a crease of amusement – just a small pouting of my lips; the narrowing of my eyes and the tilting of my head. Ceres looks at me as if I was crazy, probably wondering why I'm smirking.

Well, it's funny, I think... how they're trying to kill me. They'll find out just how hard it is, and I'll make sure neither the Peacekeepers or the Capitol get what they so crave for. Bloodthirsty bastards. But it's funny, really...

...How I managed to convince Isabelle – not once, but twice – not to volunteer for the Games freely, but I get chosen to compete.

Oh, life is crazy.

* * *

 **A/N: Ayeeeeeee! So it wasn't that long until another update, right, right? So yeah... Can I just say how much I love all of these tributes? Like, legit, y'all gave me some amazing ass tributes who I can't possibly be any more grateful for. If there was a way, I would be... If I could, I think I'd jump into my computer screen just to interact with all of them – all of the bitches, all of the fuckboys, all of the cuties, the innocents, the vindictive ones... All of them... You guys have some crazy ass thought processes going on through your minds when you make these guys, because they're so interesting and fluid for me. (Did I use fluid in the correct way in that sentence? Let me know, please...) Like, I just get them... I'm adopting them from all of you, okay? Deal with it! :O**

 **So anyway, the weather, right? Am I right or am I right..? ;) For those of you who are new, my A/Ns consist of nothing important. Like, never at all xD So excuse me if you get confused and question me in your mind like, ''Why is this idiot talking about meaningless things? Like, what does you betting on a cat fight have to do with the story?'' Nothing, nothing at all, my dear readers. ;) But you know, gotta keep these A/Ns interesting, right? Maybe, yes, no? Yes? Say yes. Please.** (◐ o ◑ ) **So I was thinking, right? Like, how do you become famous... Do I need to lip sync and put that ish on YT? Do I have to just be found by a random scout on the streets, while spitting bars?**

 **By the way, speaking of bars, y'all should buy my mixtape. Only $39.99 with killer beats and 50 minutes of me screeching animal noises, ight? It's all good, trust me. And in a couple of years, when I apply for College, I'm gonna send that crap straight to Harvard. Legit, they're gonna love it. I'll also tell them to even consider asking Side Hoe #5 named Marcus to tell them how fire it is. Lmao burn that, fam. So worth it, trust me... Trust me. You just don't understand. I'll be big one of these days because of it... Hopefully xD**

 **So these tributes were interesting, right? Sorta? Yes? Oh, and if anything, guys, please tell me if I'm portraying your tribute wrong. I would hate to be writing a tribute wrong, so PM me or call me out in the reviews and tell me how much of a terrible, bitch ass author I am, okay? Thank you. And excuse any of the mistakes in this chapter. I was trying- key word: trying... to proofread, but I just had my headphones in and was bumping to Rae Sremmurd, so I just... The beats took over me, and... I just... I couldn't, you know? I was so distracted, but it was worth it. Camera lights shine off my shiny belt... Kill the lights, I am on my level... XD Okay, whatever, onto the questions!**

* * *

 **What'd you think of the tributes overall this chapter?**

 **Favorite POV?/tribute?**

 **Least favorite POV?/tribute?**

* * *

 **Anyway, yeah, short A/N... Don't worry, though. Next chapter I'll be back telling you all about the life story of yours truly, even if you don't wanna hear about it... Yes, you'll get used to it, so it's alright. Trust me, it doesn't take long to adjust to me... Everyone here has threatened to kill me at least once, so you're all good... You're all good xD So I'm gonna go get a suntan... Jk, I don't need one – my skin is dark enough...** **ಠ** **_** **ಠ** **It's quite upsetting, but whatever! :D Anyway, thanks for reading. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. See you all next time. Bye! ^-^**


	4. Opportunities

**Reapings Part Two:**

* * *

 **Atlas Aureliano, 18, District Two Male**

* * *

Slicing forward, I embed my katana into the dummy's heart, watching as the fake foam of blood comes pouring out. I rip the weapon out, dust it off on my legs, and set my sights on another target. In all honesty, I know that I shouldn't be practicing on the day of the Reaping, and nobody is allowed to anyway, but I couldn't resist – I'm volunteering today, and I want to get a little bit of practice before going up.

''Atlas!'' Veyron – my best friend – comes rushing in through the double doors of the Training Academy. He stops as soon as he enters, and a cheeky smile creeps up on his face. Brushing his hand against his short cropped hair, he says, ''Come on, you know we do everything together, man! At least inform me when you go off and do stuff like this!''

I laugh. ''Sorry, man, I was just really in a rush this morning.'' Crouching down, I pick up the water bottle that I brought and squeeze it, letting the water rush into my mouth and travel down my throat. ''I had time to get Lily, as you can see,'' I inform him, pointing towards her as she sits on the floor. ''But I didn't really, you know, have time to grab you.''

Veyron glares at me, but then he begins laughing. ''Get over here, man!'' I shout out in a friendly tone, shooting my hand upwards and begin reeling it back, signaling for him to approach me. Veyron wastes no time and quickly jogs over here, and as soon as he arrives, we shake hands.

''So tell me... How exactly did you get in here?'' He questions. ''The Academy is never open when it's Reaping Day, and they don't usually allow anyone to train. You know how they like to keep their volunteers 'fresh' before they go up? So what's your secret, Mr. Aureliano?''

''Well,'' I drawl. ''See, I just kinda made friends with the man at the head office earlier today when I saw him closing the doors. We got along well, talked and joked a bit, and he just let me in. I brought Lily and Ace with me, so that was also a plus. It seems that I get whatever I want, and that's kinda cool and all, but I'm not entitled to anything. I wouldn't mind hearing someone say 'no' for once.''

Veyron crosses his arms and scoffs at me. ''So you get everything that you want, but you don't appreciate it? You've never had to face rejection before in your life, so why would it start now?''

''It's not that I don't appreciate it, I just don't feel like everyone has to give me what I want all the time, you know?'' I sigh. ''But I'm fine by it, really. If it wasn't for that, Mom and Dad would've never brought me into the Academy, we would've never met, and you would've never gotten that anger out of me – and I would have never saved Lily from cutting herself, and possibly end up taking her own life.''

''So you getting everything that you want is what led to our friendship and everything else?''

''Like I said, I'm not entitled to anything,'' I smile. ''But it is nice, and I'll always appreciate it and never take it for granted. Because any day now, it could be swept away from my hands just like... Well, you know what. And yes, that is what led to us becoming so close – and I'll always hold that deeply.''

''Yeah, I do.'' Veyron wraps his arm around my neck. ''And I hold it deeply, too, bro. But look on the bright side: at least she's resting in peace now, so you don't have to worry about her.''

''...How is she resting in peace, Veyron?'' I inquire. ''She killed herself, there's no resting in peace when you end your own life. She was depressed, she didn't have any relationships that were going well for her. And because of that, she decided to pull the plug, cut the rope, end it all!''

My sarcasm gets the better of me but I maintain myself. Sighing, I begin to apologize but Veyron cuts me off before the words even escape my mouth. ''Don't.'' He pauses. ''You don't need to, man, I get you completely. I mean, that's never happened to someone I've loved before – definitely not my sister of all people – but we're like brothers, so I can understand your pain.''

Just as I'm about to thank him, Ace appears out of nowhere and calls out. ''Veyron!'' He runs up and high fives Veyron, then turns to me and starts making requests: ''Hey, since you're both here – and because Lily doesn't seem like she wants to communicate with anyone – why don't you two do some practice together? You basically do everything together, so why not spar for one last time before my brother... Well, you know what I mean.''

Veyron nods and picks up the katana that I was using, then turns to me and gives a childish smile. He stabs the katana into the dummy's chest and sinks it in deeply. ''What do you say, Atlas, for old time's sake?'' I nod my head and walk over to the weapons closet, and pull out another katana. The two of us line up right in front of each other's faces and hold our weapons up in a proper stance, waiting five seconds before we attack.

Instantly, Veyron's arm goes swinging to the side and her carefully clutches the katana with both hands, making sure to aim straight at for stomach. I jump back with automatic reflexes, making sure to bring my weapon up to match his. The sound of metal clashing resonates throughout the silent training room, with sparks that begin to fly out and land just a few inches from us both.

I pull my katana back, leaving a wide open look for Veyron to swing straight at my neck. Quickly leaning back, I push my left hand forward, grab him by his collar, and pull him closer to me, then I bring up my katana with my right hand and press it against his neck. Panting, the both of us eye each other with smirks on our faces.

He sweeps his leg in between mine and brushes it off to the side, instantly knocking me off balance. My katana falls out of my hand and he walks over me, stands staring down at my face, and brings his katana to my chest, but I quickly roll out of the way and elbow his knee. His balance falters and he stumbles forward with no defense to support him. I quickly lift him up with as much strength as I can manage and drop him onto the floor. A loud grunt escapes his lips, and just as he tries to get up, I press my katana down onto his neck and chuckle.

''Game,'' I claim. Veyron spits on the floor and wipes his lips, nodding his head with a key smile. Helping him up, I duck my hand down and allow him to grab onto it. When he gets up, the Reaping Bell chimes. ''Hey, Ace!'' I call out. ''Come on, we're all heading out now.''

Veyron and I place the katanas back into the weapons closet and leave the Academy, Lily following right behind us. ''I knew you were gonna win that,'' Veyron says. I turn my head and look at him quizzically. ''Don't give me that look, you know you're good. Honestly, I don't see why the Academy didn't choose you to volunteer in the first place, but whatever, right? You go out there and volunteer anyway. Show them that you're not a pushover and that you have the skill to win; you're not just some replacement.''

''Well, it's not just about winning,'' I sigh. ''It's the District. I wanna make Two proud, I wanna show them that I'm here for them, and that I'm ready to put my life on the line to satisfy them. I want to do as much as I can in order to grant us fame and fortune for a year or so. That's all I can do to support my District as of now, and letting someone else volunteer during my final year just isn't an option.''

Turning toward Ace, I observe as he stays quiet. He wasn't excited when I delivered the news, telling him that I was gonna volunteer. He's always been against me risking my life for the District, but the loyalty that I feel for it is what really pushes me forward – it's what keeps me going, and I want to fulfill that dream of making Two proud.

When we arrive to The Square, everyone turns their heads and stare at Veyron, Ace and I. People give Lily dirty looks, and although they're whispering, I still hear what they're saying, wondering why the hell I dare hang out with someone like her. Around me I see girls giving me, Ace, and Veyron loving eyes – a couple of them wink, some make hearts with their hands, and others blow us kisses, but when they see Lily they scoff, probably questioning what everyone else is.

''You okay, Lily?'' I ask, while standing at the front of the line. People usually tell me that I'm ''cool,'' and that hanging out with Lily will ruin my reputation, but I honestly don't care. She's like a sister to me... and I'm the slightly annoying older brother who continuously checks up on her.

She peers up and nods her head, a gleam on her features. I smile and turn back around to let the Peacekeeper prick my finger. Once she stamps the blood, I walk out of the line and tell Lily that I'll talk to her later in the Justice Building. Ace has already left and gotten a spot in the sixteen-year-old section, and Veyron and I just reach the eighteen-year-old section. I catch Veyron staring at me through my peripheral vision and turn to him, asking him, ''What is it?''

''Just go out there and kill it, okay?'' He orders. Nodding my head, I look straight forward just as the Escort and Mayor finish their introductions, and the female tribute's name is called. ''The Academy is wrong for placing you as a backup volunteer. You should've been chosen as the primary volunteer in the first place, and either way, whether Braiden got into a training accident or not, you would've still volunteered, am I right?''

''I volunteer!'' Yells out Sigrid Lapierre. Although she's only a year younger than me, she still has incredible skill. I remember overhearing her and someone else talking in the Training Academy, something about letting a girl named Aemilia volunteer because it was her last year, and Sigrid still had another year left. Sigrid walks up to the stage calmly and in a focused manner.

''Yeah, I would've,'' I admit. ''Of course. I want this, Veyron, and you know that. You've always been there to support me, and I thank you so much for that. And no matter who's called up there when the Escort yells out a name, I'm still raising my hand up high and mighty, making sure that everyone sees me, and I will run up that stage with a smile on my face.''

''Good,'' Veyron grabs me and wraps his arms around me in a hug. ''Don't forget me when you're in that Arena, alright?'' Nodding my head, I agree to always have him and everyone else who's helped me get here on my mind everyday when I'm in that Arena. Apparently the Escort already called out the male's name and I missed it. Veyron turns me around and tells me to look, pointing to the center of the aisle.

My eyes widen when I see Ace walking past me, almost halfway near the stage. He catches a glimpse of me and shakes his head, but he knows that I've always wanted to volunteer. I promised myself that no matter who it was, I was going to volunteer. So, running out of my section, I quickly catch up to Ace and grab him by the back of his neck in a playful manner and smile at him. ''I volunteer!'' I raise my hand up into the air.

Ace grits his teeth but holds his peace. He wants to say something, but he doesn't get the chance to when two Peacekeepers pick him up by his underarms and drag him away from me. There's a glistening shimmer in his eyes, like tears are about to soak out, but he keeps his cool and stays unemotional, nodding his head as he vanishes into the background.

When I hop onto the stage, an overjoyed sensation taking over my blood-filled veins, I don't even wait for the Escort to ask me for my name. ''Atlas Aureliano!'' I state, holding my ground. ''And District Two, I promise you that I will make you proud. My respect for you, how much I cherish you, how much I want to satisfy you... All of that will carry me out through the Games, so wish me the best of luck. I won't do you wrong.''

The Escort – who's name I should probably get to learn – gives me an impressive look and nods his head in delight. Turning back, he announces Sigrid and I to District Two and says he's confident that we'll have another Victor this year. If we manage to do well and play smart, there are no doubts in my mind that one of us will come out of that Arena alive – preferrably me, though.

District Two gives us both a standing ovation, and the Escort directs us to each other, telling us to shake hands. Sigrid grabs my hand in a polite way, a smile that seems to be frozen on her face. She hasn't removed that look ever since she volunteered, which is really strange, but I don't judge.

She has a firm grip, and her hands are so soft pressed against mine. She uses her other hand and places it under my chin to lift my face up, and stares directly into my eyes, with a genuine look on her face. ''Good luck,'' she whispers.

''Good luck to you, too,'' I reply.

We raise our hands high into the air, and when the clapping stops, she slips her fingertips away and walks to the Justice Building. She seems friendly, very friendly; however, I feel like there's much more to her personality than that.

And it'll be seen sooner or later. I just have that gut feeling that something's up. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

* * *

 **Emil Robins, 16, District Three Male**

* * *

''Hey,'' Toni whispers, still lying back on the lush green grass. ''Why are we here again? I don't mind skipping out on factory work and all, but I'm just curious. You never really filled me in on anything, you know.''

''Yeah, yeah, I know,'' I shush him. Turning my head to get a view of him, I begin to explain. ''See, the Peacekeepers are patrolling the streets right now. People are out, and I've basically planned this foolproof scheme."

Toni sits up a little, my words drawing his attention. ''So I've been thinking about this day for a while now,'' I say. ''The Peacekeepers take a routine everyday – they patrol the Square streets three times in an exact amount of thirty minutes, but sometimes they take breaks in between. There are ten minutes before the Reaping starts, and they're currently on their third lap.''

''Uh-huh,'' Toni says, excitement gleaming on his face. He's beginning to pump himself up for something. ''And this is the reason why you have those plastic bags with you, right? What's in them?''

''Yeah, but let me finish first,'' I demand. ''They always pass by Capitol Incs before finally pushing through the crowds. And in the crowds are the best places to cause trouble.'' Cracking my knuckles, I let a smile radiate my face and grab the plastic bags that I have in my arsenal. ''Inside of these, like usual, are mini microchip bombs. They won't do any serious damage, but they're enough to shock and cause trouble, and-''

''And you're gonna toss them while walking through the main streets, but intercept the Peacekeepers so that you can get not only them, but the hundreds to thousands of people all walking to the Square at the same time. But you know if you do that, it'll only delay the Reaping, so whoever the poor, unfortunate children Reaped are will only have to dread getting to the Square even more, right?''

''Psh, of course I do! But I don't care. I honestly really don't care,'' I shrug my shoulders and shake my head. Their problem is theirs, not mine. I only care about what I gain, what I get, what I receive. But what I receive is that craving... When people look at me – whether it's for good reasons or bad – I just feel amazing, like it gives me a joyful sensation on the inside.

It's something my parents never gave me, but that's only because they don't give a damn about me. It's fine, though, I get what I want one way or another, and it always pays off. The spotlight always shines on me, and when all of those eyes are locked on my body – my figure, my shadow, my silhouette – I feel like a celebrity. Like someone who's known all over, and maybe that's because I am.

''We might as well start heading out now,'' I say, pointing toward a shortcut to the main streets. Toni follows calmly, not letting the excitement control him and make him do something idiotic.

It's just so bland... This District is so boring and monotone, with people who don't know how to have fun or enjoy life – all they do is work and complain and bitch and moan. Nothing exciting or fun-filled happens here, and it makes me wanna just leave. But at least I have their attention.

When we get to the main streets, Elden Boulevard, I quickly remove my two micro-bombs from the plastic bags and clutch them in the palm of my hands tightly. Up ahead, the buildings block out some of the civilians who begin clocking out of work, and are starting to get ahead of the Reaping Bell.

Before I let out my electric assault on the citizens of Three, I make eye-contact with Toni and ask, ''How did the citizens of District Three feel after getting electrified?'' He ponders over the question for a few seconds before I abruptly interrupt his thinking. ''Shocked!''

With two arm tosses, I send my mini bombs flying across the low skies, and in the background Toni tries to suppress his giggle, but ends up bursting into laughter because of my joke. ''Come on!'' I shout out, running to get a closer look at the mayhem that's about to arrive.

And right when I step my foot on the concrete floor, two explosions go off in a synchronizing fashion, sending smoke to erupt from the ground and end up blinding the streets. Small electric bolts begin to spark and make contact with everything that touches the smoke. Because of this, many people begin yelling, while I stay behind and watch it all unfold. _I want to jump in there so badly..._

But I can't, not yet. I'll wait until the smoke and dust squander away until I make my appearance in front of everyone – and when I do, boy oh, boy will their expressions be priceless, but _totally_ worth it. And just on cue, with the screaming of women and mothers, the crying of children, the grunting of men and fathers, all of the blinding substance fritters away.

Three Peacekeepers simultaneously pull out rifles and begin shooting in the air, sending bullets and flashes of yellow light up from the smoke. When Toni sees this, it's like memories flood through his mind. ''Remember when you almost got whipped, Emil?'' He asks, keeping his calm, but I can see the fear in his eyes. ''Yeah, no, we're not dealing with that again.'' Grabbing my arm, he tries to run off but I keep my ground.

My eyes stare into the windows of his, and I just shake my head. _I can't._ With me staying still, he turns away and begins running off, probably heading for The Square. The Peacekeeper shots are quickly followed by shrill shrieks of women and children, and then nothing but the sound of wind flowing through the air.

Quickly running past the blinded ones, I push through the heaviest of people and get myself to an area where there's a clear opening for everyone to see me. _Everyone._ When they're all able to see, they all turn to me – some of them let out groans, others let out laughs. ''It's Emil!'' I hear, and I begin to grow amused.

Multiple people let out complaints all at the same time, until one certain, extremely skinny girl with black hair and brown highlights approaches me. When she finally reaches me, the look in her eyes is one of the best expressions I've seen from a person in a while; there was no trace of tears, not in her eyes or in the track marks on her reddening face. Her eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, hard...

In this moment, I know that I'm now her enemy, someone she doesn't like already. ''What?'' I shrug, pretending like I don't know what just happened. Everyone stares right at me, all eyes darted just how I like it. ''D-Did I do that? I thought it was just a game that we were playing, so I just threw those little equipment thingies,'' I try, then purposely lose my balance so that I can fall into her arms.

She tightly grips the collar of my shirt, and just as I'm about to talk, strong hands seize my jaw shut. Staring straight into my eyes, I get the feeling that I've crossed some invisible line, offending her sensibilities – but I don't care, that's what I wanted to do. Whatever happens to others, like I said before, is their problem, and I couldn't care less about them.

''What is honestly wrong with you?'' She bites down on her bottom lip, like she's holding something back. ''Is there nothing else that you could possibly do besides fuck with people all day? Do you know how annoying it gets, seeing your face over and over again, and the only thing that comes with it is the annoying, disruptive, chaos that you cause?''

''Huh?'' I tilt my head, feigning as if I don't understand the words that have just escaped from her lips. Her face contorts into one of complete anger, vexation written all over her face. She begins to holler at me, calling out things that she thinks hurt me – but no, not in front of the crowds.

Shaking her grip off, I push her away and fall ''accidentally,'' which allows me to get laughs from the viewers. Nobody pays attention to the girl, but more to me.

''What is wrong with you?!'' She stands over me, her body bent over and her face right in front of mine. ''You're so immature! Why don't you grow up and stop being so irksome?! Can you-''

''Whoa!'' I yell, keeping a straight face on the outside but a huge smile on the inside. ''That hot ass breath knocked the life out of me! Can you get out of my face before you kill me and then go on to kill the rest of District Three with that dank ass breath, please?''

Chuckles emit through the atmosphere; even the Peacekeepers are laughing. She quickly walks away from me, and some people shake their heads, while others begin dying of laughter. Just as these incidents conclude, the Reaping Bells chime and I'm able to slip away from the Peacekeepers without being noticed.

In short time, I make it to The Square and get in line, where I exploit myself as an idiot to get laughs from others, or just gazes to stare at me. The world seems like such a bigger place, but with me being the thing that it revolves around. It's all in my hands, the attention, all of it is locked on me like I crave, like I desire.

''Next!'' A Peacekeeper yells out, drawing my attention, now. Lumbering over to the front, I finally reach the table and stick my finger out, allowing the Peacekeeper to poke a needle into it and sample my blood. I then strut to the sixteen-year-old male section and patiently wait, but begin to think.

''...Wonder who's gonna get picked this year,'' I say under my breath. ''Probably someone who knows me, or someone that I don't know but want to know me, want to pay attention to me and give me their time. Someone who will make me gain, not lose – and whatever I gain is actually their loss, which is even better.''

Stroking my chin, I sigh and turn my head to the back of The Square, where I see a little boy walking to a back row with his father, giggling and laughing at something the child just said. That makes me boil on the inside, rage, actually. It's disgusting, how some people can have relationships like that, while I can't even remember the last time my Dad and I laughed together, or even took a stroll around the District with one another.

''Why do they get that and I can't even get a damn hug..?!'' I say out loud, although that thought was supposed to stay in my mind. Boys around me begin turning and eyeing me and some begin to call me weird, but I just smile to myself and continue thinking – after all, they're giving me their time, so why complain?

The snapping of fingers knocks me out of my thoughts, and when I look up, the Reaped girl – guess I missed out on the Treaty of Treason and other important introductions – is walking up onstage with a... smile on her face? I don't know why she's smiling.

''Oh, you're happy about this?'' The Escort asks, a confused look on his face. ''I've never really seen a District Three tribute excited to be in the Games... Besides that one psychotic kid a couple of decades back. What a fool he was. Glad he's dead, though, so phew! You're no psycho, are you? Or is there just a chip on your shoulder?''

Inspecting closer, because my eyesight isn't the best and I refuse to get glasses, I make out that the Reaped female was the girl who confronted me earlier today, not even ten minutes ago. She shakes her head and answers, saying that it's something to do with family; guess it's good to see someone else who's going through the same struggles as I am.

After her answer, the Escort strolls over to the males' bowl and picks out a slim slip, and echoes the male's name out into the microphone. ''Emil Robins!'' What?! Something hits the back of my throat and almost makes me choke, and my heart starts pounding rapidly against my chest. Me? No way! Around me, all of the boys begin giving me horrifying looks, and some girls from the opposite side of the aisle give me pitying looks. No way, I couldn't have just been Reaped.

''No way...'' I whisper to myself. ''Emil Robins, please step up to the stage!'' Above, up on the monitors, they zoom in closely on my face, and then, that's when it hits me hard in the brain and my head begins to throb. I've just been Reaped as District Three's Male representative for the Hunger Games this year..! There's no escaping, I've actually been called...

Two Peacekeepers push everyone in my area out of the way and grip my arms tightly, pick me up, and bring me to the stage. They then push me up, and I lock eyes with whatever her name is, but I quickly ignore her as she quivers her lips and turn to the audience ahead. Everyone is pale-faced, but that's not important.

Something begins hitting me harder and harder in the chest, and finally, I realize that I'm on camera – not only for District Three to see, but for the entire nation of Panem to see. The Capitol, Districts One to Twelve, and whatever else is out there that's viewing. They all see me... Their eyes are locked on my appearance on the screen right now, watching my every movement. The realization finally kicks in, and even though this isn't the best attention I could receive, it's still attention...

...The type that I've always been looking for! Making it far... If I can do that, I'll be a celebrity, and if I win... If I win... I'd be famous forever, I'd never be forgotten like all the fallen tributes. They'd remember my name, I'd be known as one of the most important District Three Victors ever. They would all treat me differently and start paying more attention to me.

Attention that would never get old and fade away. I'd be forever a legend.

* * *

 **Sawyer Fira, 17, District Seven Female**

* * *

Pulling back the old-fashioned curtains of my room, I let the morning sunlight cast an antiquated scenery across my bed and light up on Dillon's face. He stares at me, a grin plastered on his features, his cheery personality not giving a care in the world. Not at all, even if today is Reaping day.

''So how are you feeling about... y'know, the Reaping today? Think you got a good chance of surviving until eighteen?'' He pokes out a question, placing his hands on his knees.

Ignoring him, I stride to my closet barefooted and perch up to see what I could wear to the Reaping today. Dillon repeats his question a second time, but I give him the same answer that I gave him last time – nothing but silence and a hostile environment. Despite our long-lasting friendship, I don't see Dillon as an exception for the way I communicate with others.

''Sawyer,'' Dillon calls up just as I pick up a white tee, and press it up against my chest, preparing to remove my pajamas. My feet keep stomping on my long, fabricated pants, which is starting to get really annoying. ''Sawyer, come on. Answer my question. How are you feeling?''

Turning my head just a couple inches over my shoulder, I shrug. ''How do you think I feel?'' Dillon puts on a worried look, his fingers twitching as he sighs and stares around my room, taking in the ugliest designs possible. But to me, this is fine – as long as I have a living environment, then all of the work that I've been putting in the lumber yard is worth it. I have food, a shelter, and I'm somehow able to provide for my mother. I think that's fine.

''It's just... You've taken a lot of tessarae, and I'm worried about you getting Reaped.'' He gulps. ''J-Just think about it. I mean, you don't look scared, but-''

''Oh, no!'' I shout out. ''Of course I'm not scared, because why should I be scared after taking out hundreds of tessarae? I mean, after realizing that work wasn't enough to actually go anywhere in life, I just took tessarae out for fun, because I knew my name would be in the Reaping bowl ten times more than any other girl in this District. Why should I be scared, Dillon?''

He contemplates answering my question, not being all too sure if that was sarcasm or not. Finally, he realizes that it was sarcasm, and begins to babble. ''S-Sorry, I-I didn't mean to... I'm sorry.''

''It's fine,'' I say quickly, then shut my mouth. There's not much to say, especially not today. ''Hey, turn around,'' I tell Dillon, after picking out the clothes that I'm gonna wear to the Reaping. I showered and groomed before he came over, and decided to save my clothes for last, which probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. Dillon turns around without a reply, and I begin to change into my clothes.

Slipping on underwear, I start to change into my capri pants, until Dillon turns around precipitately and stares at my half-naked body, despite me telling him not to turn around! ''Wait, but you never told me- Aagh, Sawyer!'' Quickly, I shoot my hand up above my breasts after buttoning my capri shorts and throw my pajama shirt as hard as I can at his head.

''DILLON, WHAT THE FUCK!'' I yell out, quickly spinning into my closet. ''ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I TOLD YOU TO TURN AROUND FOR A REASON, ASSHOLE! WHAT'S YOUR DEAL?''

''I-I'm sorry, I didn't know y-you were changing, Sawyer,'' he shrieks. ''You should've told me, or else I wouldn't have turned around. It's called warning people, not just demanding them to do something!''

Throwing the white top over my upper body, I then walk out of my closet with a pair of sandals on and cover my tee with an unstrapped jacket. ''It's common sense, you idiot!'' I let out. ''When someone tells you to do something, you just do it, especially if they have a good reason for it. You're honestly such an idiot sometimes, Dillon, and I just want to smack you so hard in the fucking face.''

''S-Saw-''

''Dillon, just shut up, okay?'' I finalize. ''I'm not about to stand here and listen to your bullshit. The Reaping Bell is about to ring, and I don't think I care to listen to your insolent comments, you fucking dick. Just shut up and do something useful for once, okay?''

He stays quiet for a couple of seconds, but then sniffs wiith no tears in his eyes. Just a bit of emotion taking over him, and that's when I realize just how far I went. Dammit, I can be so catty sometimes, I didn't even realize how mean I was being to him – and over a silly little thing, too. Sure, I was... exposed, but he didn't know. ''Dillon, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to be that rude to you, and I hope you can accept my apology.''

''It's okay,'' Dillon says. Spinning around swiftly, I open up the door of my room and enter the hallway, then cross into the kitchen where I find my mom just sitting there, leaning against the table. Shivering, she just begins to mutter to herself, saying many words that are hard to make out. I can't even understand, and by the look on Dillon's face, neither can he.

There's a bottle of pills and multiple of them are digested already. Rushing forward, I quickly slap the pills off of the table and turn to see what she's holding in her hands, only to find at least a dozen bottles of booze in the sink and one half empty in her hands. I rip it from her grasp and shake her shoulders, but she just looks at me like I don't exist.

''Sawyer, maybe we should stay and-''

''No, Dillon, I'm not staying and doing anything, not today,'' I sigh. Swiping her brown hair away from her beautiful eyes, I empty the rest of the booze into the sink and tell Dillon that it's time to go. Without him stepping behind me, I open up my door and wait.

''Are you sure, Sawyer?'' He asks. ''It's your Mom, and you know how she is. What if-''

''I'm not going back on my decision, Dillon,'' I state. ''Now come on, the Reaping is about to start soon and I don't want to be late.''

Just as Dillon steps forward, my mother clutches against his leg and begins to cry out. ''DON'T LEAVE ME, PLEASE! DON'T GO OUT THERE, THE WORLD IS A TERRIBLE PLACE! THEY'LL TAKE YOU FROM THE STREETS AND HURT YOU... A-AND DO TERRIBLE THINGS TO YOU!'' She screams out in terror, causing both Dillon and I stumble backwards. ''THEY'LL TAKE YOU, AND DO THINGS TO YOUR BODY..! HORRIBLE THINGS! SAWYER, DILLON, PLEASE!''

''Dillon, let's go!'' I walk back, grab his arm, and yank him away from my mother. I'm actually surprised that she remembers my name, but that's not the point. She's mentally ill and messed up in the head, and wasting time and sticking behind isn't gonna cure her. I have to take care of her, but sometimes I have to sacrifice the time that I spend with her in order to do that.

''SAWYER, DILLON, PLEASE DON'T-''

I slam the door to my house shut and begin sprinting to The Square with Dillon, ignoring the fact that the Reaping Bell chimed minutes ago. Dillon begins to blabber out words, telling me that I should've stayed back and caressed her, but I truly don't have time to do that – plus, I made up my decision, and like I said before, I'm not going back.

''You know, you're very stubborn, Sawyer,'' Dillon pants. ''Even though you know it would've been the right thing to do, you still left your mother in the dust just to get to the Reaping. Who cares about that stuff, Sawyer? That's your _Mom_ back there, the woman who gave birth to you and...''

''And what, Dillon?'' I ponder. ''She's sick, okay? You think I can just stay behind and help her all day, but that's not how things work. Oh, yeah, I'm just gonna sit back and wait for someone to feed the both of us, right? No, Dillon, shit isn't easy!''

Dillon just sighs and lets go of my hand, then begins walking to the lines. He gives me a forced smile, and I can do nothing but sigh in exasperation as I go to the lines to get my finger pricked. Staring up ahead as the Peacekeeper pricks my finger, I make note of the hazy trees, resting on the horizon. They make me feel calm, and that's really all to it.

When I get to my age section, I do nothing but sit there quietly and sigh. A girl elbows me softly, asking me if she thinks we have a good chance at winning this year since two of our tributes made the final four last year. Ignoring her, I close my eyes and listen to the Treaty of Treason and the faint sounds of the screams that echo from the monitor above. Honestly, these girls around me are all annoying, but the horizon is the only thing that's keeping me calm right now, so I keep quiet.

But still, there's that tinging feeling that I have, and I can feel a vein bulging from my head over the chattering of all these girls. I can't hear a damn thing over this! ''Can you shut up, please?!'' I let out, although there's much more. ''All you guys have been doing is talking throughout this whole damn Reaping so far, so can you shut your fucking mouth and let others around you listen?''

They all go in hush mode instantly and fidget with their hands. Siamene places the microphone by her hip and struts to the females' bowl. When she dips her hand in it, there's a clattering of teeth as some of these girls shiver in fear. Siamene lifts one of the many slips in the Female Reaping Bowl out, and reads the name.

''Sawyer Fira!''

In the grip of silent panic, my eyes become wild and my pupils dilate. My heart beats against my chest in a race against time, and I feel like I'm about to throw up. Everyone around me can feel it, building like an unstoppable snowball in the pit of my stomach. I cannot concentrate on anything else that I'm doing. My heart now begins to beat harder and faster, much more rough than before, and my adrenaline level rises.

As sweat starts to drip all over my body, it feels like my skin has another hot level of flesh on the outside. Out of nowhere, negative thoughts come rushing like waves on rocks into my mind, and I start to shake irrationally. Arguments and trivial thoughts cross my mind and out, and they go so fast and disturbing that my brain begins to shut down my body. Sweat has completely covered my body and my heart feels like it's going to explode.

But then I realize that I'm on the monitor, and that all of Panem is watching me _right now._ Taking in a deep breath, I let my chest rise and fall with the sedative qualities of a lullaby. The surrounding area is so quiet that I can hear each breath with ease, and I contort the scared expression on my face into a neutral one, letting it sit there, warming my face against the newly cooler air of the early morning.

Revolving my head to the right once I step out the aisle, I watch as all of the fun-loving, lighthearted expressions on Dillon's face decompose and become replaced with a frightened look – one that's able to send shivers down anyone's spine. I can only look at his eyes, but twitch my mouth into an upward grin, but it soon falls.

When I get up to the stage, emotions begin to flow all across my body; I wanna cry, I wanna scream, I wanna break down, I wanna curse everyone out, I wanna yell out at someone to volunteer, I wanna run to Dillon and hug him, I wanna run home and cuddle with my Mom, I wanna kill myself at this moment, and I just want to escape this terrible fate.

''Anything you want to say, darling?'' Siamene asks, but I give no response. ''Wow... Guess the Capitol was right. Everyone in Seven is boring, besides the tributes who actually look forward to competing and getting back home, but with a better life. This one here? Yeah, nope, she's a goner. My prediction is she makes it to the final twenty in the Bloodbath and gets her head smashed in by some sick, twisted Career,'' Siamene laughs.

Her words make me clutch my stomach, and they actually pain me. The feelings that I had before are only worsened, and I feel as if I'm unworthy to be in her presence or something like that. How cruel can a person be? That's just... That's just wrong to say mean things like that, especially to a person who's facing death.

''Fidan Blanchett!'' I hear Siamene say, and almost just like me, the monitors present an absolutely terrified-looking boy. He contorts his face into one that just shows you he's going to shit his pants, but it looks like it's taking him everything in his power not to begin balling out in tears, and I can respect him for that. A minute passes by of this kid just standing there, probably having an existential crisis or something, looking as if he's contemplating over his life.

And then, he steps out of his aisle and walks up to the stage stony faced, doesn't respond to a single question that Siamene asks him, and nods his head once she presents us as District Seven's represented tributes and tells us to shake hands. He clutches mine tightly, not even bothering to stare into my eyes, and quickly darts off to the Justice Building.

When I get in there, I just let everything out. The chairs, now on the floor; the windows, half cracked; the curtains, completely torn from the walls.

Luckily Dillon gets here just after my small rampage, but he notices the tears in my eyes. ''I'm sorry,'' I sniff. ''I just needed to blow off some steam.''

* * *

 **Vendetta ''Shadow'' Ischyroe, 17, District Ten Female**

* * *

''Vendetta, where are you going?'' Xavier asks me. Rotating my body around, I shrug my shoulder and pretend as if I don't know. My Dad peers up, while my Mom just stares at me in an upset way. Looking around the restaurant, I watch as Dad comes from behind the counter and Mom goes back into the kitchen to get an order.

Dad places his hand on my head and speaks for me. ''Your sister's just going to The Square earlier today, Xavier,'' he lies. ''You don't have to worry about her, okay?''

''Vendetta...'' Xavier tilts his head. ''Where are you really going?''

''I was just gonna actually go hang out with some friends, Xavier,'' I swallow my spit. He probably knows that I'm lying, since I never talk about any sort of ''friends'' that I have, but I can back it up. ''You've just never met them before, but don't worry, I'll be back soon.''

Mom comes out walking with a plate of eggs and bacon, accompanied by a cup of coffee that she slowly places on one of the customer's tables, telling them to enjoy their food. Xavier brings his head down and begins eating the french toast that Mom saved for him, after he pours maple syrup on them. Both of my parents take a short break and look straight into my eyes, both sighing.

''I don't want you to do this, Vendetta.'' My Mom says, putting her left hand on her hip and her right hand on her forehead, shaking in a depressed way. ''But I know that you don't have a choice. Like usual, please just hurry it up and make it quick for the poor victim. You do remember your mission, don't you?''

''Yeah,'' I sigh. ''Daniva Astark, twenty-eight-year-old male who opposes a threat to The Mafia. They want him dead as soon as possible, and I'm the one to do the job,'' I try to hold back the grimace that's forming on my face. Reaching into my back pocket, I press against the two thin, slick knives that I carry. ''It'll be quick and painless.''

''Okay,'' Dad sniffs. ''I just wish you were never brought into this life, because now look at what we have to do – what _you_ have to do. Just... Just meet us back here after the Reaping, we have a meeting tonight and the Boss wants us to be there early. He has a special assignment for you and me both.''

''Alright, Dad.''

Turning around, I make my way closer to the restaurant's doors, pushing them slowly to get out and enter the rough streets of Ten. ''Oh, and act more feminine!'' Mom shouts out. Looking at her one last time, I roll my eyes and smile, then begin walking again. A person walks right beside me and waves at me, calling out my name before entering my parents' restaurant but I only ignore them.

If I remember correctly, Daniva had a deal management that's supposed to happen today, and he's meeting up with whoever at the corner of Bilton's Avenue. Merging into the crowd, I look forward, trying to spot out the man I'm supposed to be looking for; black hair, blue eyes, a scar drawn from his left temple to his chin.

Just as I spot him, a woman grabs my hand and begins asking me if I'd like free samples of whatever she's selling. I pay her no attention and begin to merge back into the flowing crowd, but she chases after me and reaches out to grab my arm again. Recoiling back before she can touch me, I quickly slip into the shadows of the sun and hide behind the corner of a rusty shop.

I slowly turn my head back to look at the streets, where I catch a glimpse of the woman searching for me, curious as to where I went. ''She just disappeared...'' She mumbles to herself, so I suck my stomach in and hold my breath. Rina Stark, thirty-eight-year-old woman and mother of two. She sells bakery goods in District Ten every week, and is always desperate in needs to feed her children.

She's no exception of the people that I'm supposed to learn more and more about; after all, any day now, she could be one of the people that I'm assigned to kill – but I'll make sure that it doesn't come to that. When she's out of my sight, I quickly slip out back into the streets and arrive at Bilton's Avenue. Everybody else keeps walking, while I slide away cleanly and calmly, like I was never there in the first place.

Feeling against the crumbling rocks on the building walls, I take careful steps until I hear two men conversing with each other. They're talking about The Mafia and how they want to bust it. Bomb it, even, and set explosives inside of the Head Quarters to kill every last member before taking over the underground warfare in District Ten.

''So the drugs and explosives, how much do you think they'll end up costing?'' Daniva asks the second man, who I recognize to be Richard Barnes – an older man, aged fifty who has three children working for the opposing side of The Mafia. I've had him and his family on my hit-list for quite a while now, but was never instructed to kill them yet. Richard, now, though, is an exception and I might have to end his life, too.

''About... let's say, twenty-five thousand in all. With the explosives coming in straight from the Capitol, the prices must be high, of course.'' Richard states. Daniva is caught off guard and jumps back, sending out tiresome croaks as he angrily bites down on his bottom lip. ''Listen, it's not my price, it's the authorization's. If you don't like it, we can always just forget this ever happened.''

''No!'' Daniva screams, pulling out a pistol. He quickly takes the safety lock off and the gun clicks. Richard is taken aback in shock, and now begins to sweat profusely. Guess this is where I make my entrance. Rushing out, just as Daniva starts his sentence, ''We don't _want_ to waste that much money, it's overpriced,'' I quickly pull out one of my knives and toss it straight at him.

The knife flies right past Richard's head and slices his cheek open, but quickly embeds itself in Daniva's right shoulder. Daniva shoots the pistol and lets a bullet go flying through the air, but it was aimed at Richard and lands in the man's chest. My knife cuts deep into Daniva's shoulder and he goes stumbling back.

Sprinting forward, I ignore Richard and tackle Daniva to the floor, then sit on top of him. The adult male looks up at me, pain screaming all over just by the expression on his face. He screams when I pull out the knife and stab it into his arm this time, the sharp pinpricks in sensitive areas of his right arm causing him to yell.

''W-What the hell?'' He grunts. ''Who... What-'' Quickly, I clamp my hand over his mouth to hush him up. He tries to scream, but I pinch both of his lips together until they bruise up to a purple color, showing me that he's wasting his precious oxygen by trying to speak. Eventually he catches up to what's going on and quits struggling.

Without a single mention of who I am or where I'm from, I grab the underside of his jaw and force the knife into his throat in a horizontal manner, drawing upwards to create a smile on his throat. Once I let go of his mouth, he gurgles out an animalistic sound that is soon drowned out by the sound of the blood that shoots out of his neck.

It soon begins to overlap the sound of him struggling, but he soon gives up as his hands twitch and convulse one last time, and he tries to take that one final breath before slipping away into whatever is on the other side. Moving his deceased body, I quickly pick up the gun that he had in his possession and fire a shot into his throat, drawing even more blood.

And this isn't because I'm psycho or anything, I just need to cover up the evidence quickly and easily. Behind me, Richard begins quivering, and I know now what must be done. Like always, I have to clear the scenes in a smart way, so I stalk until I reach Richard, while he's trying as hard as he can to crawl away – but the shot to the chest keeps him stunned.

''W-What do you want?'' Richard quivers. ''Who are you anyway?''

Since he's going to die, I might as well tell him, but only because of what I'm doing today. ''Vendetta Ischyroe, I work for The Mafia. Your underground group is our enemy, and I've been told to target you for quite a while now, but I haven't been instructed to eliminate you yet. But you just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.''

''B-But how? You're just a young girl, how could someone such as you ever be part of The Mafia?!'' His eyes begin to dull over, the shot to the chest really leaving a toll on him.

''See, my uncle was part of the drug dealing business in The Mafia, and because of him, my father was dragged into it alongside with my mother; and because I was born to them, I was automatically observed to see if I could be part of The Mafia as well. My uncle was always selling drugs on the daily for the low-low, but he did something to anger our leader, and because of this he's now dead. And since they've always been observing me and knew how observant and stealthy I was, they ordered my Dad to bring me into the group. He didn't have a choice, though, and if he did deny... Well, nothing good would've come from it.''

''...You've gotta be fucking kidding me..!''

''I've been introduced to this business ever since I was fourteen, so I'm not exactly 'new' to how cruel this world can be. And this is basically a real life Hunger Games for me on a daily basis. At first it was just spying, but then, because of my skills, I was forced to kill others. Taking lives isn't fun, I absolutely hate it, to tell you the truth.''

''You sick bastard, I bet you take your anger out on others after getting bullied! That's it, isn't it? So you kill others... You say that you hate it, but you do it with such ease. You're a natural born murderer! You sick, twisted fuck!''

''It doesn't matter what you think,'' I stare at him with an unnerving gaze. He begins to twitch incessantly, and I feel bad for the poor guy. Too bad I have to end him as well. ''Listen, I just want to live a normal teenage girl's life, but I can't have that. You can think what you want of me, but,'' I stop, just as the Reaping Bell chimes. ''I'm gonna Volunteer so that I can get out of this mess, and so that I won't have to kill ever again. People don't deserve this, and I'm sick and tired of it. So I'm sorry I have to do this to you.''

''Wai-!''

Unexpectedly, I thrust my hand forward, sending my knife right in between his ribs and heart. The blade pierces deeply inside, causing him to bleed out much more than Daniva did. Richard cries out in unadulterated pain, sending howls that are unfortunate to hear. Quickly, I pull the knife out and wipe it on his shirt, then take the pistol and shoot him twice in the chest, making it look like a suicide attempt.

Whenever the Peacekeepers find this, they'll immediately jump to conclusions that he killed Daniva, and then realized that he couldn't cover up so he tried to kill himself by shooting his chest twice, but since that failed, he eventually placed the pistol to his temple and pulled the trigger.

 _Bang!_

A deep hole erupts blood from the side of Richard's head. Now placing the gun in his hands so that the fingertips show his DNA instead of mine, I put both of their bodies stacked on top of each other and begin my run to The Square.

When I arrive, I immediately get my finger pricked and take a position in the seventeen-year-old female section, right when the Escort calls out the female tribute's name. I never informed my parents on me volunteering, but when they see me mounting that stage, they'll know why. Managing to block the girl's name out of my head, I shoot my hand up to the air and yell out, ''I Volunteer!''

This is worth it. I can finally move away from The Mafia, live a better life with my family, and forget all about the things that we've had to go through. If I can live a better life just by taking a few more... Well, then I'm fine with that. I'll do it, quickly and simply. If I'm appealing the Capitol by giving into their little game, then so be it.

I'll do anything to have a more fitting life for the ones that I love. And Xavier won't have to grow into the same lifestyle that I did. He can keep his innocence and stay safe... away from the trouble that a world like this presents, that a position like the one I'm currently in presents.

When I get to the stage, Ten's Escort asks me a couple of questions, and shows quite the excitement since Ten hasn't had a volunteer in ages, but I stay poker faced and ignore all of her comments and remarks. ''Quite shady, aren't we?'' She says. I ignore that, too. Talking to her isn't in part of the plan to win, and I don't have any business with her either, so there's no point in saying a word. She'll do her job; I'll play my role in this, and nothing more. The rest of Ten stays quiet, not sure how to react to this. It's been quite a while, I suppose.

''Avery Billings!''

A boy from the fifteen-year-old male section walks out quicker than anyone expected, shouting out words of praise and happiness. ''ME?'' He yells out. ''NO WAY, THAT IS AWESOME! ARE YOU... ARE YOU SERIOUS? I CAN GET PRAISED FOR KILLING PEOPLE!''

There's just an uncomfortable aura around him. He begins answering every question honestly, like he's actually prepared for this. ''Yeah, I'll kill, trust me! I won't be afraid of a single person there, and I'm gonna win!

''All of the... Well, you'll all just have to wait and see what I do in the Arena. I'm gonna fucking murder everybody!'' He says this in a mumbled tone, but it seems like I'm the only person who heard him echo those words. Staring at him, I keep my facial expression calm and collecting.

When our Escort tells us to shake hands, he grabs mine roughly and clamps it with two hands, then begins to shake it strenuously.

''Hey, whatever your name is, you never said it... But, uh, I just wanted to let you know,'' he informs me. ''Seeing you hurt is gonna be _sooooooo_ much fun. Just make sure to cry in the Arena for me, okay? And try to get as much blood seeping from your body as possible. It'll make everything a whole lot better...''

My expression doesn't change. Keeping my thoughts to myself, I remove my hand from his forcefully and turn to face the Justice Building. Catching Brynn Soreell – one of Ten's Victors – I give her a nod and respectfully wave at her. She gets up and begins following me, but I quickly open up the door to the Justice Building and slip away to an unknown area.

Her footsteps bounce against the carpeted floor, but then they reduce in noise and seem to disappear. That's all I have to do; sit back and wait, then claim my kill in these Games.

A better life is worth the deaths... I just have to keep reminding myself that.

* * *

 **A/N: Ayeee! Sorry for the late update, this chapter was long overdue. Not gonna lie, I got hella lazy and didn't write for a while, but I also had EOCs so that also kinda stopped me from writing, with studying and all. As you can see in this chapter, I got really lazy towards the end (sorry, Wizard), but hopefully I was able to write Vendetta's POV well? And yeah, for the earlier readers of last chapter, I'm sorry the chapter was so ass xD I didn't proofread shit and when I went back to read it, I found so much ass. Like it was an overload of ass. Way too much ass, in fact. But yeah, hopefully that isn't the case with this chapter. I proofread this chapter like, three times, just to make sure the absolute overload of ass didn't happen again, so lemme know if you find any typos or idiotic mistakes, it always helps and lets me know what to fix. And tell me if I've written your tribute well or not. I wanna write them as best as I can, so be honest with me. And for those who haven't seen your tributes yet, if you would like to know when they got a POV, just hit me up with a PM and I'll let you know. Anyway, on to the questions ;)**

* * *

 **Opinions on each tribute?  
**

 **Favorite POV/Tribute?**

 **Least favorite POV/Tribute**

 **With the first eight tributes that we've seen so far, what are your predictions for some of them?**

* * *

 **Anyway, yeah, that's all for today. I would've made this A/N much more weird, random, and uncomfortable for all of you, but I felt like being normal... Ha ha, psyche, hell no. I just didn't wanna spend my Saturday morning perfecting an awkward A/N, so yeah xD But yeah, that's all for this chapter. Expect the next chapter to be updated quicker, maybe... I can't make any promises, seeing as I have more exams coming up, but I'll do my best to get them up and get through the tribute introductions so that the pre-game stuff can start. So that's all, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and your feedback is always appreciated. I'll see you guys next chapter! And excuse me for unanswered PMs, I suck at getting back to those, hehe... Bye! ^-^  
**


	5. I'll Be Gone

**Goodbyes Part I:**

* * *

 **Sigrid Lapierre, 17, District Two Female**

* * *

When the Peacekeeper lets go of my arm after accompanying me to my Goodbye Room, I walk to the middle and take in my surroundings, after taking a seat on the four-legged gold coated chair. Three people come barging in through the door, and none of them are the people that I expected to visit me first.

Valencia enters first, followed by her two children, Aemilia and Nero. Aemilia pouts as soon as she sees my face, and brings her hands up to her chest in an act of childish defiance. Her brother, on the other hand, just laughs at her and begins pointing his fingers.

Valencia just glares daggers at me and begins to bitch just when we meet eye-contact. ''You just couldn't let her Volunteer, could you? You just had to go and disregard my pleads and make me look bad. Do you know how much of a fool I look like now, with my child not being the Volunteer to represent our District after all my talk?!''

Keeping my mouth shut, I just tap my foot and lean back against my chair. I take a deep breath and then stare into Valencia's – my stepmother – eyes. Shrugging my shoulders, I don't even bother to utter out a word. ''Well, are you not going to say anything?'' She shouts. ''Speak to me!''

Oh, how low class she is. This woman really believes that her children and her are all that, but none of that is true. I feel sorry for her. She's just so pitiful and annoying, I can't see how anyone could actually like her – especially not my father. Not only is everything that I said before the truth, but she's also a gold digging bitch. ''I wanted to Volunteer.''

''WHAT?!'' Aemilia screams out, her mouth stretched out open. ''YOU VOLUNTEERED BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO? WHAT ABOUT ME? I WANTED TO VOLUNTEER, BUT NO, YOU JUST HAD TO DO IT DURING MY LAST YEAR, YOU STUPID BITCH!''

''I'm sorry, Aemilia,'' I tilt my head. ''You're a great person, you know. I just really wanted to take this one chance at Volunteering. But if you want me to be honest, you're mild at best with weapons, but everything else is amazing; like your attitude, and your looks. You're great, Aemilia.''

Peasant.

''Ha! She said you're mild at best,'' Nero laughs. Him and Aemilia both begin quarreling so I just sit back and watch, trying to hold in my suppressed chuckles. Aemilia goes to slap him, but Nero quickly ducks and twists his sister's arm. ''Don't touch me, bitch. This is why you weren't chosen, because you suck!''

''I DO NOT-'' Aemilia screams as Nero twists tighter. ''AGH, LET GO!'' I let out a sound that's mixed between a cough and a sneeze, and this sets Valencia off. Aemilia and Nero are both on the floor now, wrestling and rolling around on the ground like the true dimwits they are. They're beneath me, the scum of District Two, actually.

''You-!'' Valencia points, but I quickly move her hand away from my face.

''You actually look pretty today, Valencia!'' She steps back, looking hurt by my backhanded compliment. ''Seriously, you look so great for your age. And that outfit, I absolutely love it! You're so brave for wearing that! Sometimes I don't even recognize you because of how beautiful you look!''

Stammering, she looks to find the words but comes up just short of speaking her mind. The poor bitch, she doesn't know how much lower she actually is. She's like a puny ant; she should just be squashed on the floor. After giving up, she storms out of the Goodbye Room along with her two intolerable children. Before Aemilia leaves, she looks back at me, while Nero is already gone, laughing his ass off after making her look untidy by attacking her, and grunts as she storms off.

The next person to come in is also someone I didn't expect – my real mother. The look on my face does a complete three-sixty and I end up frowning angrily. I didn't believe what Valencia called my real mother, I never wanted to believe it, but I now know that it's true. Everything about everyone is true.

''Sigrid...'' My mother starts. ''How are you..?''

Despite my bitterness towards her, and how ashamed of her I am, I don't let any of that get in the way of speaking to her regularly. ''I'm doing fine, mother. Being chosen as District Two's female representative really makes me happy. What about you?''

''I'm proud of you, Sigrid,'' she feigns. That's not what she wants to talk about at all. ''You're a great trainee, and I know that you're gonna do big things in the Arena. The way you carry yourself, and how you're so independent and mature... Sigrid, you're amazing, okay.''

''Oh, it's nothing, really. I'm flattered that you think that, but it's nothing at all.'' Leaning forward, I place both of my hands under my chin and give my mother a death glare.

''I know how you feel about me and your father... and... I'd just like to say that I'm sorry about everything that's happened to you – from us separating, to you walking in on me with...''

''Yeah, you slept with another married man, despite you being remarried, I know. But, you know, I didn't believe Valencia when she first called you a tramp, but sometimes you don't expect some things told to you about people to be true, do you, now?''

''S-Sigrid, please forgive me,'' she pleads. ''I'm sorry that you saw that, but trust me, I've changed. Let's just forget about it, okay?'' I nod my head, but really, I'm not agreeing to this at all. This is something that I hold against her, something that I know about her, and that everyone really just does use each other. How much of a shitty person can you be to cheat on your spouse, especially your current one who doesn't know of your history? ''D-Do you have a token, I have something for yo-''

''No, I don't need an item from you'' I stop her from finishing her sentence. ''I got one on my own. The ring that Dad gave Valencia when he asked her to take his hand in marriage,'' I bring up, then pull it out of my pocket. ''That's what I'll be taking into the Arena.''

Letting out a chuckle, my mother then quickly turns around when a Peacekeeper opens up the door and tells her to get out. She looks down at me and smiles shyly. ''I love you, Sigrid.'' Smiling, I wave her off and take a careful observation at what she's wearing. A small smile creeps up on my face.

''Hey, Mom.'' She quickly turns around and looks me in the eye. ''Stripes don't usually work well on someone with your build, but it works okay on you.'' She gives me a depressed look and then turns away.

''Hey,'' says the man of the hour. When I look at my father, I see no sign of emotion on his face. He's always been like this, terrible with not only relationships but with emotion. He has no regard for how I'm feeling right now, and I can't tell if he's happy for me or not. ''You know, it's not gonna be the same without you these next two weeks.''

''No, you guys will be fine on your own, believe me,'' I reassure. ''It'll be the exact same, like I never left. You just gotta believe that.''

''Well, that's true, Sigrid.'' I was expecting him to say something like that. Saying that me leaving to the Capitol is gonna be like I never left was just a play on words, but he hasn't changed a single bit. ''But hey, when you get back, we'll have even more money than we do now, you hear me? With my amazing business skills and you winning the Hunger Games, you, me, and the rest of the family can all move into the Victors' Village together and become even more amazing. Who cares about the rest of the world, right?''

There's a blank stare on my face right now, his words making me angry. He's so self-absorbed and thinks so highly of his work. But the one thing he doesn't get is that if I do win, Valencia and her pack of infants aren't moving in the Victors' Village with me. I Volunteered for a reason, and it wasn't for the fame or the money – I want to get away from them.

''Just think about how thankful Valencia will be when you-''

''Excuse me, father, but Valencia will not be thankful or grateful of anything I do, and I hope that you understand that,'' I address. ''If I do win, and excuse me in advance, she'd only move in because of the luxury, father. She's someone who just wants your money, not someone who's loyal and loving to you.''

''Sigrid, please, I know that,'' he hushes me. ''But it's nothing personal. As long as I'm not affected by it, then everything is fine. You just need to learn to understand that, poor child.'' See... People like him really tick me off, but they're who they are. What can I do about it? It's not worth risking my temper and time to change them.

I'm just glad he didn't catch on to how I actually felt while putting on those fake smiles of mine. My smile tells so many lies, but on the inside, I really don't care. A Peacekeeper comes in and tells him to get out. Doing as he was instructed, he walks out without sparing me a second glance while Ismene and Hedda take his place.

Quickly, Ismene grabs my hand and starts congratulating me. ''I didn't really think you were gonna do it, but I should've expected you to. Someone as amazing as you deserves this, Sigrid!'' It's like she's clung onto me. Ismene makes me feel like someone who's famous, and she's my admirer, but I really don't care to deal with this.

''Thank you, but it's not that big of a deal, Ismene,'' I admit. Pushing her away from me softly, I tell her, ''Since I'm leaving now, just promise me that you'll continue to do well in the Academy. Continue to work hard without me and maintain that passing grade, understood?''

''Yes!'' She says, nodding her head vigorously. At the corner of my eye, I catch Hedda just staring. ''I'll carry on what you taught me, and maybe next year I'll be able to Volunteer for the Games and win. Just like you, I plan on going all the way. You surely will, Sigrid, and I can't—-''

''Okay!'' Hedda yells. ''Shut up, Ismene, she gets it.''

''Now, now, Hedda, we can't be mean, okay?'' Ismene turns to me and begins laughing, then nods her head. She looks back at Hedda, then back at me, raising her eyebrows, curious as to if Hedda is trying to say something. ''Ismene, I'm glad you came to visit me, but Hedda and I would like some privacy. I hope that you can understand.''

''Of course I can!'' Ismene turns on her heels and places her hand on the handle of the door. She quickly turns to glance at me and flashes me a smile. ''Thank you... for everything, Sigird.'' After that, she opens up the door and leaves. Hedda scoffs and rolls her eyes. I'm doing the same thing as she is on the inside right now. Honestly, though, Ismene is too soft and fragile for District Two. Sometimes I wonder how she's managed to live up to seventeen years of her life.

''Go out there and kill it, Sigrid,'' she demands. ''Don't be a bitch and end up Volunteering for nothing. If you die, then you're pathetic and worthless, got it?''

''Family issues getting to you again, Hedda?''

''Shut up, bitch. That's a lot of mouth coming from someone such as yourself?'' Quickly, I get up and ask her what that's supposed to mean. ''It means that you could be better, but you're not. If you die, I'll make sure to stand up to your shadow.''

''Whatever, Hedda,'' I sit back down, then cross my legs together. ''For a top class student, you're extremely fake. How hard you are on the outside contrasts majorly to how soft you are on the inside. But you know what, I can respect that about you. I may have never told you that, but I do.''

Hedda nods her head. ''I respect you as well. So prove me wrong when you get in that Arena. When you make it back, I'll be waiting for you. And when the next year hits, I'll volunteer and come back victorious as well.''

The both of us grin widely, but our expressions quickly disappear when a Peacekeeper barges into the room - rudely, I might add - and grabs her by her hands. ''Get off of me!'' She grits, after elbowing the Peacekeeper's chest and stomping on his boot. ''It's called personal space, something we all have. Learn what it is before you go on to touching people!''

Her footsteps are the last things that I hear before the Peacekeeper roughly shuts the door closed. Not even the wind blowing outside is loud enough for me to hear. Nothing but silence now, which gives me time to think to myself. Volunteering for this was worth it, I know that

The Games are my only way out of this hideous life of mine. Escaping is what I need to do.

A better life is what I seek.

* * *

 **Cassia Abbey, 18, District Five Female**

* * *

''Hey, are you okay?'' Beckam asks me. No, _Beckham_ , with an h? Wait, no, his name is Beston, Breckon, Beckman, Breckett? Oh, who cares? One thing, though, I don't understand his question. Why wouldn't I be okay? I mean, just look at me. Look at it... Look at all of this.

''Yeah, why wouldn't I be okay?'' I ask, slipping my hand away from his and begin wiping his disgusting sweat on my long, sparkling hot pink pants. ''Ugh, your hand touched my nail. Please don't do that ever again. But yeah, why wouldn't I be okay? I'm going into the Hunger Games, and- w-wait a minute, I'm going into the Hunger Games!''

''Yeah...'' What's his name gives me a sorry look, but then quickly changes it by shining his perfectly white teeth and makes it look as if a smile is stuck on his face completely. Psh, what a show off. Those perfect teeth may be nice and all, but they're nothing compared to me and how fashionable I am. ''It's okay, though. I know you'll do good.''

Two Peacekeepers grab both Beckman and me and force us into the Justice Building. When we get inside, they separate the both of us and place me into an individual and solitary Goodbye Room. The shade of sunlight that enters this room is absolutely disgusting. It's even more horrendous with this disgusting furniture. Some of the items in here are cute, but others... they make me wanna vomit.

Approaching the table cloth to my left, I prepare myself to completely take it off and fold it to a state where it actually looks presentable, but my family walks in and stare me dead in the eye. Dad walks to me slowly and pulls me closer to him, wrapping his arms around me. His embrace is warm, and his big, strong arms seem very protective.

Looking up, I notice my little sister Alexis watching me. She won't say a word, that's to be expected. ''Because she's such a little bitch!'' I growl, but that wasn't meant to be said out loud. Quickly shutting my trap, I squeal and fall back, placing both of my hands above my mouth.

Dad looks at me and questions me for a little bit. ''Honey, watch your language,'' he says. ''I know that this Reaping stuff is really hard for you, and that you most likely don't want to be in a death match, but there's no reason to curse. My perfect angel would never use language like that, so please, refrain from using it around us, okay?''

''Yes, Daddy,'' I agree, nodding my head furiously.

''W-Why would you say that to me, Cassia? I literally j-just got here and you're a-already trying to start some conflict!'' She whimpers. My parents don't bother to pay her any attention. She was never planned - a terrible rubber-free accident - so you can guess why. All the spotlight goes to me, me, _me_ , and that's how I like it. Fuck everyone else, all I care about is myself and nobody else.

''Karen,'' Daddy says.

Mom lets out a sigh and crosses her arms together. ''What is it, Corey? We really need to hurry this up, I have to get back to work on the new genome type for the Capitol mutations. I can't waste much time in here, Cassia can handle herself, and I really, really don't want to talk to her right now...''

She whispers this but I still overhear her. ''Mom, Dad,'' Alexis calls out. For an extended period of time, Mom and Dad continue talking to each other about work and all this smart shit. I don't understand what this genome stuff is – some type of food, maybe? But what does food have to do with mutations? Maybe they plan on actually feeding the mutts in the Arena so that the tributes can live!

''Listen, Cassia,'' Mom interrupts my thinking. Alexis says something again but Mom completely blocks her out. ''There are twenty-four tributes in the Hunger Games, you know that.'' Nodding my head, I repeat exactly what she just said.

''Yes, Mom, there are thirty-six tributes in the Hunger Games, I know that. I'm not _that_ stupid to the point where I can't even count. Daddy, do you see how she treats me?'' Clapping my hands, I gaze listlessly at his coat and point to it. ''Water bottle, Daddy, I need that! My throat is wet and moist, so that means I need to drink something ASMAP!''

''ASMAP?'' Alexis questions.

Turning to her, I begin explaining what the acronym means. ''As soon as fucking possible, Alexis! Dammit, get with the program!''

''...WHAT?! CASSIA, THAT MAKES NO SENS-''

''Here,'' Daddy hands me his water bottle. Taking the cap off, I begin chugging the drink and wipe my mouth as the cool, wet beverage drips down my chin and onto my chest. ''Anyway, do you have a token or...?''

''MOTHER!'' I quickly get up but stumble on my feet. Unfortunately, I trip over myself and fall right at the feet of my mother. Staring up at her, I point to the golden sun charm necklace that's placed on a gold chain. ''That...'' I utter. ''Daddy, please tell-''

''Fine, take it!'' Mom grips the necklace and forces it from her neck. She tosses it to me, and trying to catch it, I end up failing miserably and the chain slams into my eye. Without a final word, Mom quickly turns around and exits the Goodbye Room.

''See you, sweetie,'' Dad says and follows right after her. Alexis calls out for my parents to wait for her, but like usual, she gets no response and has to catch up to them herself. Turning around, she stares at me one more time and glares. Unhesitantly, though, she changes her expression and says, ''Love you.''

''Bye, bitch, don't come back!'' I wave. She frowns and turns, but before she closes the door completely, I change my statement. ''Just kidding, you know I... actually love you! I'll see you when I get back, okay? Because I'm definitely coming back, because yeah..! Remember, ASMAP! I'm coming back ASMAP!''

The smile on her face fades and her shadow disappears. Coming in after her is my boyfriend, Zayne, and my two friends Luella and Sally. ''Zayne!'' I yell out, tromping my boots down the opening and caressing his sweet hands around mine. ''Baby, I missed you!'' I give him a quick peck on the cheek.

''Cassia, no, come here, now!'' Luella demands. Sally looks at me questioningly and shakes her head. ''You do _NOT_ visit your boyfriend before me, okay? I'm the most important person here, so you better understand that, okay? If not, I can easily kick you out. Your parents' money won't save you from being kicked out of the popular group!''

''True...'' I ponder.

''True!'' Sally agrees, like she always does. Turning my cheek to the right, I notice Zayne licking his lips and winking at Sally. She coos and places her finger nail in her mouth, bites seductively, and starts strutting toward him by crossing her legs. Quickly, I push my pants down and show the skin of my thighs and quickly run to Zayne.

Brushing his cheek softly, I then begin to jump up to bounce my goodies and shake them in his face. Sally quickly stops and smiles. ''Sally, isn't Zayne just the best?'' Sally nods her head and kinda blushes, the red tainting the color of her face.

''CASSIA!'' Luella yells out. ''Listen, do stuff like that in the Games, the Capitol will just eat it up. Especially at the interviews, flash yourself or something, just make them love you! Plus, with your beauty, you'll get sponsors like no other tribute will, but make sure to get practice with weapons and stuff.''

''I don't need that weapon stuff, my voluptuous body will get me far. And with my beauty... Oh, they'll eat me up. And fuck all the other tributes,'' I scoff. ''It'll just be about me, and I'll get everything. The Careers will love me and want me in their alliance, and I'll join but end up killing them in their sleep, because I come first.''

''Yeah, but beauty isn't everything! Sometimes it hurts.''

''If beauty hurts, then you know a bad bitch like me always in pain.'' I grin. ''Seriously, look at me! Compare me to all the famous Capitol models! I have a face like Marina, ass like Talia, titties like Aiyesha, and the sex appeal of Addison Chevel. Isn't that right, Zayne?''

''Uh-huh,'' Zayne nods vigorously. Another kiss goes to him for agreeing with yours truly. While I begin to kiss Zayne and bite on his bottom lip, I take in a look at his light brown eyes. Jesus, if he didn't have these looks, we would not be a thing. Honestly, that's all I care about. As long as he stays this way, he can see every part of me in action...

The door slams open and two Peacekeepers order my friends to get out. ''Remember what I said: get your head out of the gutters and use your body and beauty to get far, but also learn how to use some type of weapon – like a knife or something easy, nothing too difficult. And...''

I kinda zone out and don't pay any attention to Luella. ''Yeah, yeah, I get you. That's the smart thing to do, wouldn't you agree, Sally?'' Sally's lucky that she knows me, because if I wasn't friends with her, people wouldn't know who she was at all. Fuck her. She turns around and doesn't think I see her holding Zayne's hand, but I do. Taking off one of my boots, I throw it right at her and it hits the back of her head.

Zayne laughs at how humiliated she is and leaves, but blows me a kiss before exiting completely. Sally gets lifted up and pulled out of the room along with Luella, except Luella's screaming some type of nonsense that I don't care to pay any attention to.

Now I'm completely alone, in this room all by myself. No matter what, I'm still coming back to Five ASMAP, and I'll do it by any means. Whatever it takes, and I won't hesitate with these goodies.

But honestly... I'm debating what the likelihood of me escaping this room is. Probably ninety-twenty.

* * *

 **Avery Billings, 15, District Ten Male**

* * *

No way, no way, no damn way! I was just Reaped! The Peacekeeper man is clutching my arm tightly, basically dragging me across the hallway. My body shakes intensely, and he looks at me in an awkward way, as if I'm making him feel uncomfortable. I'm just so hype, I absolutely _love_ the Hunger Games!

''Can you stop shaking?'' The angry Peacekeeper asks. Staring up, I grin my teeth widely and shake some more. My body is vibrating like there's no off switch to me, and I eventually get the man to give up. We arrive to a Goodbye Room and he pushes me in, looks me in my eye before turning around, and closes the door.

Usually, as a general rule, I try to hide my emotions. I've always kept my face blank because I figured it was intel I'd rather not hand over; people reading me and learning what actually goes on through my mind doesn't sound appealing to me. But today... oh, no, today is different. Excitement pours out of me like sunshine through fine white linen. It's like my body is glowing from the inside out.

A smile that I haven't felt ever since that fateful night cracks on my face and I leap up from my chair, happy as a child with clowns and balloons at his birthday party. I begin pacing around the room with both of my hands around my back, and suddenly begin talking to myself.

''I love this so much, the Games are right in front of me!'' I shout. ''Just a week, one freaking week and I'll be in that Arena with... with the Careers! The bloodthirsty, psychotic trainees who win this thing almost every damn year. I'm gonna meet them, I'm gonna actually meet some soon-to-be killers!''

Immediately, the doors to my Goodbye Room shoot open and in the doorway stands my mom and brother. Hmm... I wasn't expecting them to come – more-so Emily, Amber and the other one that I absolutely hate – but that's fine, at least they care.

''Avery!'' My mother bawls, tears staining her eyes. She runs up to me and grabs both of my cheeks with the palm of her hands, squishes them together, and stares into my eyes. Quietly, she squeals and bites down on her lips, hard. Her hair is disorderly and blocks her face, but my eye catches something sharp.

In the center of her lip, blood drips from where she bit – where she bit hard. A feeling in my body kicks in and it's like I'm set on overdrive, bringing my hands up to touch my mother's face. She looks deep into my eyes and thinks I'm going in to welcome her into my arms, but that's not it at all. The inside of the cut on her lip... I want to see what's in there.

 _But you can't look. Not when it's your own mother, at least,_ my mind reminds me. Slowly, I look away and slide my hands away. ''Avery!'' She yells again, this time clutching both of my hands. ''You've just been Reaped, a-and you're showing no emotion! Don't you see how serious this is?!''

''It's not that big of a deal, Mom,'' I cackle. Looking up, I notice Jesse – my brother – smiling at me, the look in his eyes showing that he's bouncing all over on the inside. ''The Hunger Games aren't that bad, even if it's a family member going in. I don't see why you're overreacting.''

''THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS, AVERY!'' My mother, cognizant of the situation, yells at me. ''YOU COULD POSSIBLY DIE IN THERE, AVERY! I'VE WORKED MY ASS OFF TO MAKE SURE THAT YOU DIDN'T END UP IN SOMETHING LIKE THIS, BUT NOW YOU ARE, AND IT'S FRIGHTENING ME!''

''You shouldn't be frightened, Mom,'' I reassure. ''After all, I'm going into the Career Alliance this year. With those twisted, sadistic, horrific monsters. It'll... It'll be fu-''

''Avery, I can't,'' my Mother turns around, walks away from me and accidentally bumps shoulders with my brother. Just when she leaves, her tears drip to the floor and she bites her lips one last time, allowing a drop of blood to follow after the tears. Once she exits and closes the doors of the Goodbye Room, Jesse and I both stare at each other.

Abruptly, I jump from my seat and lie on the ground, taking in the look of the bright body fluid. Sliding my finger across the carpet, I take in the sample and bring it close to my eye. ''Jesse, I'm going in, with the Careers! Do you know how much fun I'm gonna have?''

Jesse sits on his knees right next to me, looking at the blood as well. ''I can't believe it, man... Hopefully I get to go into the Games some year, too. Imagine all the blood you'll get to see, all of the bodies you'll get to slip open, all the bruises, pain, and conflict you can cause!''

''Imagine all the sliced throats!'' I laugh.

''Imagine all the decapitated tributes!'' He screams.

''Imagine the look on the Careers' faces once you get a kill and join their alliance, then go on to kill some of them! Imagine the look on the District's face when you win! Imagine how good it'll feel to claim another victim!'' Jesse grabs my shoulders and shakes, vigorously placing his forehead onto mine, and then he breathes, ''Imagine killing yet again... Do you remember that girl you told me about, the one you killed?''

''That stupid skank, Helena? Yeah, I fucking _murdered_ her. The dumb bitch had it coming, after all,'' I say as I continue to scrutinize the blood sample. ''I can't believe that it was just yesterday, too... You should've seen the look of horror on her face, she was so pleading for _us_ to end it quickly, but we didn't! Say, when I make it back, I'll get another victim, for you this time!'' I commiserate.

''Avery, I would LOVE that!'' He pokes my chest. ''And Mom has no damn idea... Think of the future, think of all the stuff we could get away with! Maybe we can even kill those friends of yours and-''

''No, they're off limits,'' I stop Jesse. ''I've finally made it into the popular group, Jesse, and I can't eliminate my only friends right now. Maybe once I move forward and gain better friends, ones who are even more popular, then we can get rid of these ones. As of now, I'm gonna make this last.''

After my sentence, a Peacekeeper barges in and tells Jesse to get out. He eyes the Peacekeeper, looks back at me, gets up, sighs, and turns away. Once walking out of the room, I patiently wait for others to come visit me, but nobody enters. Well, that's weird...

So, instead of worrying myself, I find myself staring up at the ceiling. Restless thoughts begin to overflow my brain and I can't help but take out a lock of Helena's hair from my pocket. Killing her was just so... fun! I just wish that I had a book or two to read instead of just sitting here and playing with her hair.

But then, and this happens unexpectedly, Emily and Adam both walk in. ''Oh?'' I let out. The both of them just eye each other awkwardly and hold their breaths. Adam... I fucking hate Adam. I wish I could just grab him and strangle that skinny little neck of his, then I'd be happy.

But Emily... She makes my heart beat faster, she makes my whole world spin around and light up with joy. Why does Adam even get a girl like her when he doesn't deserve her? They both turn towards each other and begin whispering, leaving me out of the conversation. Quietly, I sneak up right behind Adam and peer up.

''What ya guys talkin' about?'' I wonder. ''You guys aren't talking about Helena, are you? It's done and over with, forget about it if that's what's running through your mind.''

''But how?'' Adam grits his teeth. ''You killed her, Avery! We just wanted to teach her a lesson, not end up taking her life... It's only been a day but I've held this in for twenty-four hours too long. That was wrong, all we needed to do was hit her and make her spend a night there – not for you to steal her life away from her!''

''Me..?'' I tilt my head to the right. ''Do you not remember that _all_ of us stabbed her except for that pussy ass bitch Amber? You stabbed her, and so did Emily! Don't put the damn blame on me!'' I feel my hands forcefully shoot up and lock around Adam's wrists. Emily lets out an quick, short gasp and places her hands on mine, trying to remove them.

I stare up and a chuckle escapes my lips. Adam's honestly so lucky I don't have a weapon of my own on me right now. In front of Emily or not, I would kill him. I just want to, I can't stand him! ''Get off of me!'' Adam rips his hand free, now rubbing his wrist. ''And I don't know where the hell Amber is, why do you care anyway?''

''Because she could rat you guys out, and you're my only group of friends...''

''Why does it matter to you, you're going into the Games, idiot.'' My hand shoots up again and a loud ass smack resonates throughout the entire room. ''Dammit, Avery!'' Tears leak from his eyes.

''Don't call me an idiot, I'm more intelligent than you'll ever be in this worthless life of yours!'' I punch his shoulder. ''And because I want you two to kill her..! If she snitches on us, the both of you will be taken immediately and she'll show the Peacekeepers where we killed her. They'll easily scan your fingerprints and see that you both also stabbed her. Remember, I made you? Yeah, use that fucking brain of yours, _idiot_. She's the only person who didn't stab Helena!''

''Yeah, well what about y-you?'' Emily says, frightened. Placing my hand on her cheek, I slowly caress her. ''Y-You also s-stabbed her... s-so that makes you just as likely of a suspect as us, and what if we decide to rat you out?''

''Oh, sweet Emily, you don't get it, do you?'' I say. ''It doesn't matter what I've done in the past because I'm going into the Hunger Games now, where I'll be able to do this to many more children. And it doesn't matter if you mention my name and say that I also had a hand in killing Helena,'' I clarify. ''I'm going into the Arena, and if I come out alive, the Peacekeepers won't do a thing. How do you think the President would feel if his latest Victor was taken under custody? It wouldn't happen, so you guys would be screwing yourselves over – you'd be playing yourselves.''

They both just stand there in awe, quietly at my words. Adam grunts angrily and finally concludes his senses. ''W-We'll,'' he gulps. Leaning closer to him, I cross my arms together and motion for him to continue. ''We'll k-kill Amber and g-get rid of the evidence.''

''Adam, no, we can't-''

''We can, Emily!''

''Don't shout at her!'' I grip his shirt. Just as I'm about to say something else, the same Peacekeeper from before walks in, grabs the back of their shirts after observing us for a minute or so, and drags them out of the room. ''Well, how fortunate of you...'' I whisper to myself.

At last, I feel as though nobody else will visit me until Amber hesitantly looks inside of the doorway and locks eyes with me after I hear the creaking of the door. ''Come in,'' I motion. She creepily walks in, her appearance completely different. ''Aw, Amber,'' I embrace her. ''What happened to you? You used to be so pretty and now your hair is all untidy, the bags under your eyes have grown, and you look like you're high with those bloodshot eyes. You okay?''

''NO, I'M NOT OKAY!'' She freaks out, pushing me away from her. I manage to keep my anger under control, because I hate – and I mean hate – when people find out my true nature and how I feel. Only Jesse knows of those two things, and he'll forever remain the only person. ''YOU KILLED A GIRL, AVERY!''

''Hey, hey,'' I place my finger up to her mouth and shush her. ''Amber, you will keep your goddamn mouth shut, okay?'' I let her know what _I_ want her to do. ''You won't say a damn thing, and you wait until everything clears up. In a week, trust me, this will all be over and done with.''

''But it's not over, Avery, you don't understand that!'' She claims. ''I watched the three of you murder an innocent girl who didn't deserve ANY of that! You guys took it too far, and I-''

''You won't do anything, Amber!'' It begins to overwhelm me. When I grip her shoulder, I make sure to press as hard as I can. Pulling her hair down, I leave her off with a warning. ''Just watch your back, Amber. Adam and Emily are gonna get you, so you might want to stay home all day everyday. But even so, they'll draw blood from you eventually, and soon, you'll be just like Helena – that's if you don't follow my instructions carefully, though...''

''You're sick, demented!'' Amber concludes. ''I hate you, and I hope you rot in Hell! I hope you burn, get crushed, die first in that Arena, get haunted by _her_ , and whatever else! You're a bastard, Avery, and you deserve everything but the best.''

''If I die, just know that I'll remember your face, Amber. I'm gonna come back and haunt you no matter what, and when you look back on these days and realize that heeding my advice was the better option, you're gonna regret your actions.''

She stands there awkwardly, letting the silence fill the void of the empty room. ''In that Arena, I'll be thinking about you every night. You just don't understand, for many years I've been all alone and now I get to roam and invite new-comers to play with me. Do you know how awesome that is?''

''Y-You ps-psycho!''

''You had your chance, Amber. You should've just joined me and stayed my friend, but you didn't listen. Is this the situation you want to be in?'' I ask furiously. Getting up now, I pace toward her until she rapidly leaves the room and shuts the door behind her. Slamming on the door, I yell out, ''I just don't get it!''

It's sad, really... Nobody gets me, and I know that there are a group of people out there who are just like me. They enjoy this and do this because it's what they can do... It's what fulfills their needs. Nobody understands, and now it's too late. Well, in most of their eyes it is.

But for me, no. It's not, and it will never be. Because there are a certain group of people who will understand me.

The Careers.

* * *

 **Ocelot Harrien, 12, District Twelve Male**

* * *

The city of wonder continues to circulate the presence of my mind. A childish smile is stapled on my face. The city that I've always been fascinated with and enjoyed thinking about is one train ride away. I never thought I'd be able to see the Capitol – until I was eighteen and had a degree, at least – but this is my chance.

Yes, I'm going into a death-match, but if I come out alive, I'll be able to use my money wisely and obtain a living standard in the Capitol. The perfect city filled with the most perfect people. My dream is to just do something there. I don't mind what it is, I may be a servant of some well-off woman and her offspring, but that's fine by me.

Patiently sitting down, I admire the beautiful decoration setup that they've left in these Goodbye Rooms. Of course, this could only be made by the Capitol. Someone in this poor, filthy District has no right of creating something this magnificent – but I someday hope I do.

I sit properly, placing one leg crossed over the other with my hands folded together neatly. Leaving my elbows off of the table, I continue to admire the beautiful room in front of me. It may not be a large room, but it's enough to appreciate.

Patiently waiting for my parents to come visit me, I think of how happy I'm going to be in these next few days. The Chariot Rides are something that I look quite forward to because the Stylists will completely renovate me and make me look like one of them.

When my parents are escorted into the room that I've been assigned to, I stand up. Like the old grumpy drunk that my father is, he walks in wobbly and uncontrolled. Accidentally, he leans to the side and bumps into the gold-leather curtains with the crystal pearls and drags them down.

''Father, no, that's Swarovski!'' I cautiously say, speed walking towards him. Calmly, I hold up my father's arm and assist him in getting up. Instead of thanking me, he pushes me to the side and wipes off his dusty, ragged clothes.

''Great,'' he comments. ''My life has already gone to shit because of this terrible District and my incredibly low-paying job, and now you've been Reaped for the Hunger Games. Can life get any worse, or do I just have to continue to drown my incredibly boring life in this alcohol?''

''Father, don't say things like that,'' I plead. My parents have never – not once – spoken about anything that has to do with wealth. All they've ever done is talk about how their life has been ruined due to the lack of money and the dead-end jobs that they both have. I've even heard them speak about how I'm the reason why they're in this situation, because I was never planned. They once even pondered over smothering me. ''Think about the positives, not everything that happens in your life is bad. Please understand that.''

Turning to my mother, I spot a small bottle hidden in her pocket. It's probably something with alcohol in it, I wouldn't be surprised if it was. ''How, Ocelot? How do we look for any sort of positives in this crummy District, especially when you're going to die?'' Ow. She brings her hand down to her pants and removes the small bottle of alcohol from her pocket.

''Mother, you must have hope,'' I assure. ''Just imagine if I win. Then you and father would not have to struggle any longer. Life would finally start to ease up and the two of you would be able to live in luxury along with me. We could live like the Capitolites do.''

''Yes, we _could_ , but the odds of a twelve-year-old such as yourself winning is highly low. And you're from Twelve, so your odds are terrible. Don't speak of things like that when your death is inevitable, Ocelot.''

I stare up at my mother and keep quiet. She's about to drink some of the alcohol in her bottle until she locks eyes with me and sighs. ''I'm sorry, Ocelot,'' she apologizes. She grabs my head and brings me to her body, basically enveloping me in her. A Peacekeeper pushes the door open and watches as my father comes up to hug me as well.

''Get out,'' he says. But before they do leave, they both keep me tightly pressed against them. The hug was a perfunctory gesture mandated by social etiquette and colder than a day old meal. It was short where it should've been long, soft instead of how rigid it would've usually been, but it ended as abruptly as it had began.

It had all the soothing qualities that I could have ever asked for. ''I love you,'' I say.

''We love you, too,'' they respond, for the first time in a while. Then, they're gone without a backward glance, duty done, hug performed. When my parents leave, I don't expect anyone else to come visit me. Well, not until three boys who I've had conflict with - pretty much my bullies - for the past couple of years enter the room.

''Well, well, look who just got Reaped! Look at this loser, looking all happy and crap. You know you're gonna die, right?''

''It depends on how you look at the chances,'' I respond.

''No!'' Two of them say at the same time. ''It doesn't matter what your chances are, a loser like you could never win!'' The three boys all surround me, and one of them lifts up his fist and threatens to punch me. At first, I flinch, which gets them all to laugh, but then I back up and sit down, away from the three of them.

''You're going into that stupid city – the Capitol. Screw the Capitol, they're all so lame, but you're just a little fanboy who tries to be like everyone there!''

''Yeah, they're all so ugly!'' Another one taunts. ''They're just stupid people with nasty hair, nasty makeup, nasty faces, and nasty clothes!''

''Excuse me, but you're calling them nasty when you look like... that?'' I accuse.

''Shut up!'' The first boy to speak grabs me by the collar of my shirt. ''This is why you're going to die. All you can do is talk, but you have no bark to back it up! I hope you die a slow, painful death. You know how they say 'May the odds be ever in your favor'? Yeah, well, they'll never be in yours. You'll be the first to die, and I bet they give you a one and twenty-four chance of surviving!''

''That's what you don't understand,'' I sigh. ''What the predictions say don't mean anything about how you're going to do in the Arena. And when they say 'May the odds be ever in your favor,' that's just them hoping. They don't make your odds, you do! Your choices are what makes your odds. You _have_ to make them in your favor. It doesn't matter about your skill or strength level, it all matters about your probability.''

They all look at me confused at first, but then they laugh. ''What a nerd! Do you really think that _probability_ will help you out? You're still gonna die! What you do in the Games is gonna be stupid, and one of the Careers is gonna kill you! You're gonna be the weakest one, I bet that girl who was Reaped is gonna survive longer than you. You're not built like them, so you can kiss my ass with your probability nonsense.''

''I might not be built like the stronger tributes, and that's a fact. But you cannot say that I don't have a chance at winning like the other tributes do – to that I say, you're wrong.'' I explain. ''It's a statistical fact that everyone's odds are equal no matter what their race, age, gender, District, or physical build is. None of those factors affect your chances at winning. You don't see the Careers winning every year, do you?''

''Shut up, you think you're so smart, don't you?''

''Even the Careers, who've been trained for this their entire lives, grown up to be sociopathic killers with the expressed purpose of surviving the Games, who you expect to win every year back-to-back and have a higher probability of winning actually don't. The math shows it, and most of them waste their lives because of it. If I don't waste my precious time, the odds will most likely be in my favor. I have a week to pre-game, and I will pre-game hard. I can give my self the best statistical advantage by gaining weight and eating, because I don't know what type of Arena I'm entering, but I do know that there will be no real food. And on average, every tribute who survives the Bloodbath and goes on to live burns two thousand to two thousand four-hundred calories a day depending on their gender.''

''And?!''

''And it means that after burning those calories, if I survive, I will have much body mass to spare, and that will significantly increase my chances of survival. Which means that I will have eight and a half days before my body shuts down, and on average, most Games last about nine days. That gets me more than halfway there if I can survive independently, and that's a much larger factor. I will be able to-''

A fist collides with my jaw. ''Shut up!'' One of the kids kicks me in the stomach. ''You're just stupid! None of your bullshit statistics will help! You're gonna die of starvation and all of those Capitolites will laugh at you. You're just a wannabe, a loser, a lame! I hope you get mutilated, you stupid-!''

I roll out of the way as quick as possible and yell as loud as I can. The three kids all turn around and start scramming for the door. ''You even yell like a bitch Capitolite as well! You're just as stupid as them, and I hope you know that the Capitol is shit! All of their opinions are garbage and nothing more, so you can suck on this sack with your statisti-''

When they reach the door, two Peacekeepers barge in with rifles and grab a hold of the three boys. Two of them get smacked on the head with the tip of the rifles and I hear a large skull-splitting sound come from the attack. The other one yells, and a loud thud hits the walls just as I close my eyes to censor what will happen during the Games.

The three boys are gone, and when I open my eyes, I spot three thick stains of blood on the carpet. They spoke of the Capitol wrongly... They're terrible for that. The Capitol has always been right and always will be right. Nobody speaks of them so wrongly, especially not cockroaches from Twelve like those guys.

All who oppose – especially those three boys – are just little runts. They don't deserve a tongue to be able to speak. You just don't say that, and they don't deserve anything great. Nothing more, nothing less, they'll get what they deserve.

And they may speak of me wrongly like that, but I will always be superior to them. Maybe not in status or in strength, but when it comes to thinking and brainpower, I will always be the best when I'm compared to them. But they don't understand one thing...

I'm going to the Capitol for a week – a week good enough for me. And that's a week full of luxury and a great lifestyle.

Something that they'll never get to enjoy.

* * *

 **A/N: Ayeeeee! So, Jesus, it's been a while since I've updated. Ha ha, nah, it's been like a week and a half XD Anyway, yeah, so what's good? Everyone having fun? Yeah, I don't know what to say about this chapter. So I guess... Happy Mother's Day! :) Hope you all are treating your mothers well, or whoever you feel closest to you that is motherly because I know this is a subtle and emotional topic for some people, and are having an amazing time. Special day for amazing people, so hope you're all doing well.**

 **So I hope you guys are enjoying this day! Idk about you all, but it's bright and sunny over here and just a beautiful day to go out, flaunt, and run through another neighborhood shirtless while saying, ''Ha ha, I'm gonna steal all your stuff!'' You know what, I'm gonna go do that right after I upload this chapter. So sit down, kiddos, I wanna tell y'all a story, because I have... nothing else to speak about. :) So a couple of weeks ago, I was chillin' with my Senior friend named Nicholas.**

 **Now Nicholas is like, ugh, nevermind, fuck Nicholas. So yeah, he bought these pair of tan cargos, right? And they were cleannnnnnnn! So then we were in pottery class, and I'm like the most immature person ever XD So he was like, ''I have Captain Crunch in a bag, you want it, fam?'' And I was like, ''Nah, keep your cereal to your self, homie. You brought it, you eat it, don't go offering to children, they'll think you're weird.''**

 **So Nick was like, ''Take it!'' So he threw it to me and I caught it, but then I threw it back and I have the worst aim in the world and it landed on some of the paint. Then me, being the immature hoe that I am, smiled ear to ear and had my teeth pressed against my bottom lip and I just reacted out of nowhere. He gave me that look... Like, you know the look your friends give you when they know you're about to do something stupid and ruin their day? Yeah, well, he gave me that look and I picked up the bag of cereal, and tossed it at him.**

 **AGH, buddy jumped up and reached for the stars. He legit, like, moved to the left and tried to move away but his cargos got hit by the brown-blackish paint and it was stained all over the right side of his pants. The pockets looked like he shit himself and even the back was somewhat soaked. Then the crunch dropped on the ground and he accidentally stepped on it with his Vans and started yelling. So then Nick, being a snitch, was like, ''I'ma tell on you.'' I was like, ''What, bruh, don't do that!''**

 **But nah, Nick was all like, ''Nah, you gonna get the strap now.'' I was like, ''Nick, fuck off, homie.'' So then I eventually got caught and my teacher was all like, ''Boy, if you don't sit ya ass down...'' Nah, she was like, in a proper voice, ''Ansley, how many times have I told you not to throw stuff in the classroom with paint?! This is the fifth time this year.'' And I was like, ''In my defense, he was offering me hella intense drugs and I couldn't accept. I don't agree with Flocka, Mrs.''**

 **So Nick was right there and his mouth was gaped open and I was like, rubbing my nips or something while mini dancing. I don't know what I was doing, I was just jamming to my fire mixtape. By the way, y'all should download that. Got it on SoundCloud, PM me for my user. ;) But yeah, long story short, I ended up having to scrub painted equipment and ruined Nick's experience with cargo shorts. He now only wears long pants, and I plan on ruining those, too. Since he's a Senior, he leaves this week on Friday, but it's straight. Got his SnapChat so I'ma be sending him nonsense while he's in class with his professor and he'll be grunting and ish. Lol, I'ma ruin his last day so bad, omg.**

 **But at the end, he threw away the bag of Captain Crunch and I got hungry so I was like, ''Yo, you still got the bag? I want it now.'' And then my friend Ariel who was on the left side was busting her ass off laughing while Nick just stared at me and was like, ''You're lucky you're a Sophomore, I would've beat your ass if you were a Senior.'' And then I was like, ''Nick, Nick, calm yourself. You wouldn't hit me, you love me!'' And Nick was like, ''You make me hate living but provide entertainment, I don't know what that is to me.'' And then I started dabbing, I don't know why, but I did.**

 **So does anyone have Captain Crunch? Anyway, onto the questions, I suppose? I still don't know how I managed to update this on Mother's Day XD Forgot that I had this chapter just sitting in the Document and decided, ''Hey, don't I need to finish that one chapter?'' And then BAM! It has been complete for a while now, and I just forgot! :D  
**

* * *

 **Opinion on each tribute?**

 **Favorite tribute/POV?**

 **Least favorite tribute/POV?**

 **How's it going?**

 **Any criticism at all? Like, how my proofreading skills are trash and I make simple mistakes? Ha ha, yeahhhhhhh... Lemme know, pls. ;)**

* * *

 **So yeah, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Lemme know what you think! But now I have to go take care of my offspring and feed him. Don't know where he is, but I remember last keeping him in a closet on accident. When your parenting skills are absolute ass, but ayeeeee. Ha ha, jk, I don't have a child. Pull-out game 100% because I believe in myself! :D Well, yeah, whatever, right? Anyway, that's all for this chapter! See you guys next time, which will hopefully be a quicker update. See ya! ^-^**


	6. Emotions

**Goodbyes Part II:**

* * *

 **Cathodette Lyte, 17, District Three Female**

* * *

Breathe in... Breathe out... I have to keep reminding myself that, I need to calm myself down. But I can't!

I just can't!

Starving for air, I clutch onto my chest as tight as I can as I feel my heart racing at a tremendous speed, and my lungs shallowly rising and falling. My body switches to autopilot and I stand up quickly, then pace around the room. Pushing the curtains out of my view, I stare out the window and only see the outer area of The Square.

Everyone's left, except for a few family members that I see. My District Partner's parents are going to visit him. Although this is calming me down just a little bit, I'm still feeling nervous – still dreading the fact that my parents might come to talk to me; my Dad's probably gonna come in drunk, and Mom won't help with how delusional she is.

Suddenly I begin hyperventilating, and I can't get a good grasp on air. My throat is so dry and I can feel the sweat trickling down my forehead and onto the tip of my nose. No one is around yet, but there will be people. But I don't want to see them, especially not my parents – not anyone right now!

The thought of security pops into my mind, and satisfaction was something I looked forward to, but it was just a distant memory. An invisible force crashes into me from every possible direction, and it feels like there are multiple ghosts just shoving my body to one another. Each and every second submerges me with fear and leaves a permanent mark on my fragile heart, and a vivid imagination makes its way into my mind when the door handle begins shaking.

Bracing myself for my Dad to walk in, I straighten myself up and rush back to my seat. _Just relax. Just be cool. Just be calm_ , I tell myself. _Think about how safe you'll be, away from him._ Coming to a sudden realization that I won't be anywhere near my Dad for the next two weeks, my body stops tensing and relaxes. It's like all my muscles come to ease and the air that I was so desperately looking for just rushes into my nostrils and out my mouth.

I'll be away... No more of these horrible attacks, no more of these disastrous attempts of escaping, and no more sexual abuse. He won't be able to hurt me anymore; he won't be able to yell and shout and tarnish me with his disgraceful words; and he won't be able to touch me anymore. Especially not... N-Not if I win.

If I win, I can move into the Victors' Village all by myself and leave my old life behind. I-I wouldn't have to be anywhere near my family ever again, and they'd never gain any access to reach me. But then there's the other option – death. One makes it out alive, and twenty-four go in. Whether anyone else thinks it or not, I see this as a win-win situation.

Being dead means that my Dad won't be able to reach me, and if I win, he still wouldn't be able to reach me. This is my one opportunity, my one chance at freedom! I can finally go away, and possibly forever, too!

When the doors swing open, I hold a smile and stop myself, somewhat, from trembling until I see that it's Vivi who's walked in to visit me. Stepping forward quickly, I spring into her warm arms and dig my face into her shoulder, smiling instead of sniffling and crying like she would expect.

''Oh, Cath!'' She cries. ''I-I'm so sorry that this happened to you. I-I-I wish it didn't, you d-don't deserve any of this!'' Trying to keep her emotions under control, she whispers in my ear, ''It's gonna be okay, I promise. You can do this, Cath, I know you can!''

Keeping my voice smooth and solid, I say, ''Thanks, Vivi, that means a lot to me. Listen, I'm just going to go in there and play the Games how I can. Maybe work with a knife or some type of blade or something, and when I get into that Arena, I'll try to survive. Either way, I'm not disappointed.''

''What do you mean you're not disappointed?'' Vivi questions. ''Cath, what's going on? You never fill me in on anything, and I get that you don't want to, but... But sometimes you have to let your friends know what's going on. Is this about your family? Something's going on, but I have no clue what it is. Possibly your parents arguing or something? If that's the case, we can talk and I can hel-''

''No, you'd just get in the way,'' I say sternfully. ''I don't want to talk about anything, there's _nothing_ to talk about. My parents aren't arguing, and I'm not being weird. Why are you saying things like this, it's none of your concern!''

''Whoa, first of all, I never said you were acting weird, Cath,'' she states. ''And second, why are you being so defensive? I just asked you a question and told you that I was here to help you, as your _friend_ , not as a stranger who's trying to invade your personal life.''

''I don't care, Vivi, you don't need to know what's going on in my life,'' I push her away. Honestly, she doesn't need to understand my life and how I feel about it. I've pushed my emotions all the way to the back of my body for a reason, and I've built these walls up to keep people from getting anywhere near them. ''Just stay out of it.''

''Okay, I will,'' she agrees. ''I just wanted to know what's been going on. You've always kept everything a secret from me, and it feels like it's pushing the two of us apart. If that's what you want, I can respect that. You don't have to open up to me, but I've just been worried about you; I'm sorry if I'm wrong for carrying.''

''No, you're not you for caring, but I'd rather you not get involved,'' I manage. Vivi nods her head and gulps, then slowly averts her eyes down to my left arm, where my uncovered bruises lie. She furrows her eyebrows a bit and then looks up at me.

A feeling in my body makes me want to just yell something out, but a knock on the door comes and a Peacekeeper pushes the door open. ''Out you go, kid,'' he says softly, pointing out the door and into the hallway. Vivi stares down at that specific area on my arm for a second, then she looks me in my eyes, and walks out without a second glance.

''Bye, Cath,'' her voice drawls down the hallway. The Peacekeeper shuts the door closed and I just hope – pray, wish, ask for a blessing – that my father doesn't enter my room. If anyone does, please let it be my mother. She's out of her mind. Crazy, in fact, but it's better than my father. He wouldn't let me leave District Three easily. He's never let me do anything easily.

Unfortunately, my hopes are worthless because my father enters the room only a minute or two after Vivi leaves. And like usual, he's drunk. Uncontrollable over his actions, he wobbles and hops towards me, a delirious smile on his face – a smile that I would see on my mother's face, but she's not like this.

She's nowhere near this bad.

Quickly, I bring my head down to my lap and try to hide. ''What is t-that?'' I hear my father's cruel voice ask. I'm not quick enough to slide down the sleeve of my shirt as he grips my arm tightly, and twists as hard as he can, leaving a huge red mark on the surface of my skin.

The next thing I know, a knee collides with my stomach and I drop to the floor, writhing in pain as I try not to cry. My father laughs in joy as he quickly brings his foot to the bottom of my jaw. Soon, blood is spilling from my mouth, but I roll away and get up. ''Come here!'' He grunts, gritting his teeth like a wild animal.

Gripping my shirt and pressing down on my collarbone, he collides his knuckles with my cheekbone and breathes in my face, his breath wreaking of alcohol. With blood dripping from my mouth and all over the lavish carpet, my father throws me on top of a nearby glass table and pushes one knee onto my gut, and stands up on the other leg with his hands wrapped around my underjaw.

''Please stop!'' I let out. ''I-I'll d-do anything, p-please... S-Stop!'' I choke out. Trying my best to get away, I stab my claws into his wrist and watch him howl back in pain. Out of nowhere, he takes out a glass bottle of a random substance - probably alcohol - that is dripping from his coat pocket and rushes at me, swiftly, like an eagle.

With no time to react, he pushes me away and my body goes crashing down through the glass table right behind me. ''Don't worry,'' he breathes, still intoxicated. He's always been like this, whether intoxicated or not; the only thing is, he knew how to hide it when he was sober. ''I'll stay on the low for awhile, and when they ask you where you got those cuts from, you can just tell them you tripped back and accidentally fell. Nobody needs to know what I did to you, and nobody needs to know what I'm going to do to you. Just don't mention a word.''

He smashes the glass bottle as hard as he can against the broken glass, and shards fly above my head and land near me. Using the broken glass bottle, he presses it against my shirt and draws a line downwards, ripping the cloth off. Removing the top of my shirt, he leaves me exposed to the cool air with only my pants and bra on, and then he goes in to remove my bra.

I just lie there, waiting for it all to end, but it never does – it's like a repeating nightmare, one that happens over and over and over again. It's happened ever since I was nine; the rape, the torture, the blood. I'm just so used to it by now that I just find a way to block it out by closing my eyes and pretending to go into my own little word.

But really, there never was a way to block it out. I always feel everything, and never once have I not cried. It hurts, the pain that he's always given me. And just when I feel my pants sliding down and my underwear being exposed and grabbed, my father lets out a grunt and falls to the side. The same Peacekeeper from before spares me one glance before dragging my father out of the room by his foot, and I can do nothing but thank him.

But I don't thank him with words. I just lie on the carpet next to the broken glass with a smile on my face, and wait for my screaming Mentors to arrive.

Because that's all I can do.

* * *

 **Clarence Loom, 14, District Eight Male**

* * *

''Sorry this happened to you,'' some random Peacekeeper whispers into my ear. He holds my hands behind my back, gently nudging for me to move along and away from the stage of The Square. Tightly, I hold Nylon's book and keep it close to my back, making sure that my grip is firmly compressed to it.

Tilting my head up, I pay attention to the dreary sky and watch as smoke seeps through the funnels of the factories in Eight. Huh, factories. Doesn't that bring back memories – both good and bad. This must be so boring for the Capitolites to watch, since it's so monotone and nothing good is happening.

That must be why it starts raining. After all, the Capitol does control the weather, and weather plays a huge role in everything when it comes to them. Rain washes my face of the nonexistent sweat, droplets clinging on the lobe of my ears. Immediately, with my left hand, I pull the black hood over my saturated form as I saunter in the soft rain, small pellets of water spitting on my hands as the remainder of the drops quench the scattered puddles decorating the wooden stage floor.

Listening carefully to the commotion, I slightly tilt my head to the right and make out my District Partner struggling against the grip of a Peacekeeper, kicking her legs and throwing a small tantrum. She flails her arms up and down, smacking against his mask as she does anything she can to escape. '

When she was Reaped, she didn't falter whatsoever. She just stood there, pretending as if she wasn't Loralei. A smile was on her features, and she just waited it out until they recognized her. Continuing to push and struggle, two more Peacekeepers rush to the first one's aid and try to help him out but to no avail.

''Can you stop squirming and shouting like such a bitch?'' I ask, my face stony and composed. ''I've never seen a human act so childish in my life before. Any similarities between you and someone of my species is purely coincidental.''

She seems taken aback by my rudeness, but not hurt. I sense how she's feeling, but I don't care. ''You might-''

''You might want to shut up,'' I interrupt her. ''I honestly want to see things from your point of view, but I don't know how to get my head that far up my ass. You've been Reaped, deal with it.''

Taking one step forward, I lead myself into the Justice Building and wait for the Peacekeeper to open the doors and accompany me to a Goodbye Room. He calmly pats the back of my shoulder, whispering quiet apologies, telling me that it's such a terrible thing that I've been Reaped. ''It's unfortunate that this happened to you,'' he says. ''I've been accompanying kids to their deaths for years now, and I can't stand seeing their reactions. Just know that I wish the best for you in the Arena, and that you'll have people supporting you.''

A kind and sympathetic Peacekeeper? No, that's bullshit. There's no such thing as a kind Peacekeeper, everyone knows that. '' _You'll have people supporting you,_ '' I mimick. ''Shut up. Who in their right mind would be supporting me? You think this lousy District cares for any of the tributes that go in? They're just thankful that it's not them who's called.''

Moving away, I shove my elbow into the Peacekeeper and hold Nylon's book in between us, keeping the both of us separated by an important piece of me. ''They will support you, I can promise you that.''

''I see you've set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in front of me rather than in front of the public, because you saying that District Eight will support me is absolutely ridiculous.''

''Come on, kid, when will you lighten up?''

''How about never? Is never good for you?''

''…Why are you so rude..?'' He says quietly.

''It sounded like English, but I didn't understand a single word that just came out of that unimportant mouth of yours,'' I step aside again. Once we arrive to the Goodbye Room, I look straight into his eyes; they look hurt, but too bad. Sucks for him. Boo-hoo. ''You've done enough, but if things get any worse, I'll have to ask you to stop helping me and never walk with another tribute ever again.''

Turning around, I enter the Goodbye Room and sit down, patiently waiting as I stare down at Nylon's book, keeping the cover of it shut. People always talked about rain as a steady sound and a gentle ''pitter-patter'' in this District, but to me, raindrops on the dry verandah crackle like an old radio that's desperately coming back to life.

Just as I draw my finger along the edges of Nylon's book, the door handle to my Goodbye Room shakes and turns slowly, then gets pushed open. My parents both walk in at the same time – two people who I've grown apart from.

''Clarence!'' My Dad calls, smiling at me. I guess today is one of his actual good days. I drift my eyes downwards, watching as he grips my Mom's wrist as tight as possible, even to the point where I hear a small crack. It makes me flinch inwardly, but I don't show any emotion. ''My son's going into the Hunger Games, Mary!'' He sounds proud of it. ''You're gonna do great, I know it. You can win and come back, and then I can tell everyone about just how amazing our family is!''

I can't stand this man. We used to have such an amazing bond until I was seven and caught on to the way that he was treating my mother. For so long I thought they were just playing, but abuse is not something you have fun with. When I confronted him, he hit me for the first time in my life, and I began to try and convince my mother into getting away from him.

That worked, but... ''Clarence!'' Mom yells out, grabbing my shoulders and bringing my body close to hers. She basically smothers me in her outfit, but I resist and push myself away from her. ''You don't deserve this, I'm sorry that it happened to you- agh!''

I watch as my Dad squeezes tighter against her wrist and wraps his other arm around her waist as he holds tightly. ''Don't feel bad, Mary. Clarence is a boy who knows how to take care of his own, he'll do well!'' Now pressing her body against his, he gropes her hair and says, ''I don't agree with the Hunger Games, but imagine all that Clarence can do for us!''

He's so annoying... On bad days he's always screaming and condescending, unnerving in general. And her... she's all types of wrong, being abusive and unappreciative; not to mention how emotional and vindictive she is. ''Do what for you?'' I snarl. ''You guys act like I'll give you the Worldif I win. I'd never give you anything, not after what you've done to me!''

''Clarence, that's not a polite thing to say,'' my Dad grunts. ''We've cherished you and given you all of our love. Your mother even brought you back to me after you stopped working at the factory and forgot about that little home that you bought. And that book, who let you keep it after the accident at the facto-''

''Jonathon,'' Mom interrupts. She inches towards me and places a hand on my chest, but I quickly swipe it away and deny her of any affection. What have they ever done for me? She never wanted me in the first place, so why should I care for them? ''You'd surely be grateful, wouldn't you, Clarence? I know that you've gone through a lot, but-''

Keeping what I want to say inside, I just smile at her and shake my head. ''Sorry, but gratitude is for those who actually deserve it,'' I joke, but keep my face the way that it was in the beginning. The expressions on their faces look disapproving and upset, but I guess they now know how I felt after the betrayal that I suffered. ''Oh, you thought I was joking at first? Ha, isn't that amusing. I never knew it was possible for your mind to be so open that your brain and ability to think realistically falls out!''

''Clarence, I'm sorry for everything that we've put you through,'' my Mom apologizes. ''We never meant to hurt you, we just want things to go back to how they were. We don't have to flee from your father anymore, and you'll be safe now. You won't ever almost meet death again, and-''

''I won't ever meet death again?'' I ask sarcastically. ''My, aren't YOU clever, Mom. Hey, guys, look at this, I'm going into the Hunger Games but I'll never have to meet death ever again! Wow, the intelligence in this one is strong!''

''Clarence, please, just understand that we love you and appreciate you even being able to talk to us,'' she says. That's bullshit. That's pure and other bullshit.

''Yes, I _totally_ appreciate you two coming to visit me,'' I lie. ''Whatever kind of act of sympathy you were trying to throw my way, I hope you know that you missed.

''We're... We're not trying anything, Clarence, we love you!'' My mother cries.

 _You lying bitch, that's not how you felt when you were arguing with him and admitted that you regretted not aborting me like all the others... Just how many others did you abort? Why was I the lucky one?_

''Cool,'' I smile. ''If I throw a stick, will you two go away?'' They both pipe down, but my father seems to take a step closer to me. I quickly open Nylon's book and bury my face in it, pretending to read despite me having finished this book multiple times.

A shrill shriek escapes my mother's lips when my father looks to hold her hand. He grips her tightly, dragging her by her hair, unfortunately. ''Listen, I don't appreciate your tone, and you know I raised you better than this. Don't upset me, son, please. I have a lovely wife, and a child who will grow to be a-'' Mom screams again. ''Quiet, Mary!'' He stops and then regains himself. ''-and a son who might be a Victor of the Hunger Games and allow us to grow and prosper in a better life! Go out there and make us prou-''

The same Peacekeeper from earlier pokes his head in the doorway and asks my parents to leave. Dad smiles at me and tries to ruffle up my hair until I move to the side, and Mom goes in to kiss my forehead but I ascend Nylon's book right in between us and stare into her eyes, furrowing my eyebrows and baring my teeth as I do.

''Leave,'' I snarl.

The both of them turn around and leave the room. For about five minutes or so, I patiently wait for my only friend – after Nylon's death – to come visit me. Unfortunately, it seems like she won't come visit me, because Milliona Webster enters my Goodbye Room, accompanied by Loralei and Jackson Tellapas.

Ignoring them, I still think about Taylor not deciding to at least talk to me in the end. I know that our friendship was never really close, but we shared something similar that I really enjoyed, but I would never let anybody know that. My chest thumps quicker than usual, and an uncomfortable sensation hits me, making me feel almost weak and... vulnerable.

''Ahem!'' Milliona coughs, grabbing my attention. ''Are you coming with us or not? You really don't have a choice, just hope you know that.'' She picks me up by the sleeve of my shirt and helps me straighten out my body, but then looks at my book. Stepping back, I hold it in place and keep myself at a fair distance from her.

Hey, people who've actually invited me in their... group. You know, I really like this. It's nice being in the presence of others; I just wish I had the social skills to get along with people, but then I remember how conniving and untrustworthy some can be. And sometimes they end up dying and leave you to be alone.

''You lonely, buddy?'' Loralei asks, looking down at me. Glaring at her, I shake my head and show no emotion at all.

''No, I just like being by myself and keeping my peace. Seems like you're different than before; first being a tantrum-throwing loser, and now you're all extroverted and out here making conversations with people. Must be a great feeling, huh?''

''A better feeling knowing that I don't carry a large ass book around with me everywhere I go. Also, a better feeling knowing that I don't have to talk down on others to make myself feel better. And a better feeling knowing that people take their time to visit me, unlike you who had five minutes of what, talking to your inconsiderate parents? They zoomed in on their faces at The Square, honey. I don't think they looked worried at all.''

Milliona and Jackson both snicker at the same time, and I'm at a somewhat loss of words. I can feel my face growing a hot shade of red, but I manage to keep myself controlled and keep my wits ahead of me. ''But that was their decision to look strong, and a smart one at best. Unlike the poor ones you'll make when you end up dying in the Arena.''

''Sweetie, my decisions will change the world. Just know that,'' she warns. ''The actions I take will have an impact on you and some of the people that you might know, so calm down with all the big talk you put up. After all, not everyone can back it up – but I sure can.'' She concludes, then turns and walks out into the hallway. ''So, is anyone coming, or?''

''Yeah, we're approaching, just like your inevitable death,'' I reply.

She turns around and looks at me skeptically, but then changes her expression into a sly smile. Absentmindedly, I walk right past her, a little bit confused, and continue to hold my face in place, making sure to show no emotion whatsoever. I don't care for these people, I just want to get through this and out.

After all, none of these people matter to me. Nobody ever will anymore. The only thing that matters now is Nylon's book, because he was important. And I'll take this with me wherever I go in the Capitol – it'll always be the most important thing on my mind, and by my side.

* * *

 **Taisiya Danshov, 16, District Nine Male**

* * *

''NOOOO!'' I scream, spazzing my body wildly. ''I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU! LET GO OF ME! MOM! MOM! BURN MY BODY, BURN IT TO HELL WHEN I DIE!''

The Peacekeepers that are forcefully holding me back struggle to keep me calm, so I continue to make it rough on them. Shooting my foot up, I slam the bottom of my shoe into one of the Peacekeeper's face. Groaning, he stumbles backwards and gives me a free space to push my foot down.

''LET GO OF ME!'' I demand, slamming my feet onto the floor. My prostetic leg makes a loud thud emit from the floor, and I try to scurry away before two more Peacekeepers rush forward and hold me up. The one Peacekeeper who's holding my arms keeps me in the air for what feels like an hour, making me anxious and scared.

Twisting my head to the left, I ferociously bite down on the arm of the Peacekeeper who's holding me up by my arms, causing him to let go and leave his hand wide open. Quickly, I let go of his arm and chomp on his hand instead, digging my teeth deep into his palm.

Like a rabid animal, I frenziedly shake my head and haphazardly continue to press my teeth downwards. His screams cause an uncomfortable atmosphere to surround the room, and the other Peacekeepers just stare for a couple of seconds. When I bear my entire weight on the bite, the Peacekeeper pulls away with a loud scream.

The deep slice in his clenched fingers quickly show, and while staring at his bleeding fingers that are partially-severed, I give up enough free time for the other Peacekeepers to smack me upside the head and knock me to the floor. I want to yell out and shake, but my body won't let me. My vision goes blank and stars circle the sight in front of me.

My body gets lifted back into the air, and then a door clicks open, leaving a beautiful scenery in front of me filled with lavish furniture and amazing sunlight. They quickly seat my body on one of the chairs and turn away, tending to the Peacekeeper's broken fingers.

I want to abscond and just get the hell out of here but I can't! The door is locked shut, so my only other option is to smash the windows open and jump out. Pressing my face against the window, I slam my head into it roughly, which ends up doing nothing. A zap hits me and my body fries for a second, keeping me stunned.

No! I don't want to accede to their games, this is ridiculous! Why is it me, why is it me?! Rushing forward, I charge myself straight into the door and ram my shoulder into it as hard as I can. Continuing to push, I bump and bump and bump until my shoulder begins to lose feeling and I just can't continue any longer.

Unfortunately, I have to abstain myself from trying to escape because there's no use in doing so. Deciding to take a seat on my chair, I cross my fingers together and sit there in silence. ''Why is it me... What did I do to deserve this? Why am _I_ going into the Games and not someone else?''

The handle of the doorknob turns and in comes my twin sisters, younger brother and sister, and my parents – no Nikola. I pick my head up just a bit and stare straight in between them, causing them all to give me puzzled looks, not sure on what I'm staring at, exactly. Shaking my head, I go back my thoughts.

''That damn Escort, that damn bowl with my name in it, this damn District!'' I mutter under my breath. Someone calls out my name. ''This is so much bullshit! I hate everything!'' Once again, someone else calls my name, and this time a hand touches my shoulder. Two people are speaking to me at the same time but I'm not paying them any attention, instead, sustaining my small talk. ''Why?!''

''Taisiya!''

''WHAT?'' I scream, quickly standing up and breaking free of my parents' hold - who were both holding onto my hands. Irisa and Inessa both eye me questioningly, Irisa more quiet and a bit distant from me, while Inessa immediately comes to ask me how I feel. ''Don't ask me that, you know exactly how I'm feeling. Did you not see my reaction up on the stage?!''

''Calm down, Taisiya,'' Irisa warns, getting upset with me. ''Don't you see that she's just worried about you, there's no reason to yell! Be grateful that we even decided to come visit you, because you know who didn't?'' Unsurprisingly, I begin to shake. ''Yeah...''

''I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you like that,'' I sigh. Family is different from most people to me, I'm somewhat decent with them. ''Thanks for worrying, I'm just upset, as you can see.''

Irisa turns away and goes to lie her back into a corner, while Inessa strokes my arm. ''I know, I'm just worried about you,'' Inessa confirms. ''Don't be upset, sweetie, I just want to let you know that you're gonna do great. When you're in that Arena, I'll be painting portraits of you out there, despite your disadvantages from some! It's okay, trust me! And just watch, Nikola is gonna love the paint-''

''DON'T SAY HIS NAME!'' I yell out, feeling my veins pulse incredibly fast. Roughly, I push Inessa away and shout at her again. ''YOU'RE NOT WORTHY OF SAYING HIS NAME, NONE OF YOU ARE! ONLY I AM, DON'T YOU EVER LET ME HEAR HIS NAME COME FROM YOUR MOUTH EVER AGAIN!''

Stepping closer to her, I huff and puff until my Dad grabs me and pulls me away. While away, I walk to the other side of the room and stand right behind the small chair in the center of the room. Isolating myself from everyone else, I sit there and try to calm my breathing. Glancing behind me, I look straight at Katerina and growl.

''And you!'' She looks at me and gasps, the only thing she ever does besides eat, sleep, and annoy the shit out of me! ''You're always so quiet, like you have nothing to say! You have a mouth for a reason, you annoying twit! You're gonna be the most boring person ever when you grow up, and you'll have no life and you'll be dull and unimportant to everyone in your life! You're unimportant now!''

Dad stays quiet and looks even more depressed than usual. He says nothing and just turns to the door, getting ready to leave. Irisa looks at him and does the same, waiting for him to exit. Well, not until Kesar opens up his mouth and says, ''Taisiya, calm down, don't get mad because you're stuck in a situation like this. We've all been through tough things, but it seems like you have a stick up your bum with this attitude of yours – although this is nothing new to us, am I right or am I right?''

My family all begin to laugh and almost tear up, even my Mom. She's stayed quiet for most of the day, but now she wants to speak. ''Taisiya, I hope you know that we're gonna be cheering you on, and that we wish the best of luck to you, honey. We'll miss you, but we have confidence that you'll do great. Just-''

A Peacekeeper walks in and pulls my Dad, who's leaning on the door, and Irisa, who's right behind him, out of the room. He then grabs Inessa, Kesar, Katerina, and another Peacekeeper enters to drag my mother out, who hasn't even finished uttering the final words that she wanted to say to me.

''I hope you remove that stick from your ass, Taisiya!'' Kesar shouts back. ''You're gonna need a brighter personality if you plan on being liked and want to survive!'' He manages to peak his head back into the doorway, just a little bit, and says, ''Just kidding, but- agh!'' The Peacekeepers push the door closed and trap his lips inside the doorway, until they pull him away and a loud _plop_ sounds throughout the room.

Now I just sit here, panting, doing my best to keep calm. Inessa's voice recycles in my mind over and over again, the fact that she said Nikola's name making me even more furious.

But then... _he_ opens the door to say goodbye to me.

''Nikola!'' I quickly get up and give him a warm embrace, acting without thinking about my actions. He stays quiet and his body gets pushed back by mine. Stiff as a rock, he just stands there, his hands at his sides and his body barely moving.

Pulling me away, he looks the opposite way and decides not to say anything. ''T-They said your name, and I told them not to. T-They didn't deserve to say a single word about you, not after what they did to us – not after they tried to isolate us and keep us away from each other..! I-I-I was so mad at Inessa for saying your name, she made me want to lash out and hit her!''

He's still silent.

''H-How are t-the experiments going?'' I try to fill in the silence. ''I know that you would do amazing as a-a Capitol scientist, you're gonna get there one of these days. I-I hope that p-part of my leg and arm was worth it, I know they were important parts for you. Whatever you did with them, I know that it was great.''

''A-And my eye, too!'' I chuckle. ''I know that I gave you some important parts already, but I wouldn't have had a problem with giving you more if we weren't kept away from each other. But I got the eye out before something like this happened. I just want you to know that if I come back out, I'll let you have anything you want, but I hope that the bodies at the morgue are good enough for now...''

The room is completely quiet, and Nikola is just glaring at me. He turns his head away, no emotion on his face at all. Walking away, he sighs deeply and effortlessly and says, ''Thank you, Taisiya.''

After doing so, he walks out and leaves me be. I didn't even get a chance to say a legit goodbye, but quickly after, my Mentors and the girl who was Reaped walk into my Goodbye Room. Immediately, Lilac begins talking.

''That's your twin?'' I don't answer her. ''He's so weird and... uncomfortable. I mean, all he does is glare at people and stay away. Being that distant, I don't understand why he even came to say goodbye to you. Like, what have you done for him? I doubt anything ever comes out of his mouth, not at family meetings, not at dinner, not at-''

''SHUT UP!'' Calling out, I storm over to her. ''AT LEAST HE'S NOT A MIDDLE-AGED BITCH WHO JUST JUDGES EVERYONE ON WHAT THEY OOK LIKE AND DO! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HIM, SO SHUT UP!''

''Hey, hey, stop that. I don't understand why you're being so-''

Turning around, I swing my good arm at Demetri – the other Mentor – and stick him straight in the jaw, and hit him once more in the nose. He's pushed back just a little bit, but ultimately grips both of my arms tightly and holds me down.

''YOU'RE JUST AN AGING BITCH, AND YOU'RE JUST A WANNABE EXCUSE OF A GAMEMAKER! SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU, YOU'RE SO ANNOYING! YOU JUDGMENTAL FUCKS, DON'T EVER TALK ABOUT NIKOLA LIKE THAT EVER AGAIN, AND DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!''

''We have a fiesty one here, don't we?'' Demetri sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. ''It's been so long since we've had someone like this. It's sad, really, he's gonna be like all the others: stubborn, hot-headed, threatening, no allies, no friends, and certainly no sponsors. Think we can get him to change his attitude?''

Lilac doesn't even move. ''Already looking at him, I can tell that he's a lost cause. I want to say that we shouldn't waste our energy on someone like him, but it's our job. Only time will tell if he'll decide to change or not, and if not, we did the best we could.''

Gritting my teeth, I begin to become even more infuriated. Already, they're saying that I'm gonna be a goner and we've been in this room for less than five minutes together! Why are they talking about me this way? It's pissing me off!

There's a low humming noise, sounding like a held in sob, coming from the right of me – and when I turn to check, it's the Reaped girl balling her eyes out, and the sound of it is annoying me to no end. The tears continue to drip, her lips continue to quiver, her face begins to wrinkle and I just don't like this at all.

Everyone here is so damn annoying!

And all I can do about it is yell. Yell at the top of my lungs and not hold in the emotion that I feel right now by cursing them all out. But in the end, that gets me nowhere.

* * *

 **Ceres Morrisey, 17, District Eleven Female**

* * *

Breathing restlessly, I keep my body still and continue to walk according to the Peacekeeper. The tears in my eyes are on the verge of spilling, but I don't allow them to. I clutch my eyes shut tightly, sighing deeply and maintaining my composure.

Reopening my eyes, I stare up at the built Peacekeeper who looks like he's staring right through me, as if I'm nonexistent. I shake my head and whip my hair at him, allowing it to slap his shoulder. He peers down at me and laughs. ''What's the point in pretending as if you don't want to cry?'' He asks; I ignore him. ''You know that you're gonna let those tears shed eventually, so why not get through with it all now?''

''Because no matter what, I won't show my weaknesses to the Capitol. And certainly not to some Peacekeeper who thinks that he's superior to others,'' I don't hold back.

''What?'' He laughs. ''Are you kidding me? You know just as much as I do that once you enter the Arena, you're gonna be balling your eyes out. You know why?''

''Inform me,'' I sarcastically retort.

''Because you're weak,'' he states. ''Everyone from Eleven is weak. Last year, you guys had both your tributes die in the Bloodbath. Do you really think that acting hard and pretending as if you have no emotions will help you win? No matter what you do, you know just as well as I do that you're not going far.''

''When did I ever say that _acting_ this way would help me win?'' I give him a deadpan stare. ''And you judge people too early. But what more should I expect from an overconfident asshole like you?''

He chuckles, amused by my responses. ''I like you, kid. You say what you want to say, when you want to say it. That's something I admire in tributes like you, the ones who are hard on the outside and want to act fearless, but are softer than a fat ass teddy bear on the inside. Maybe I was wrong about you; you might survive until day two.''

''Cool, whatever, think of me how you will,'' I roll my eyes, still holding in my tears. He's too judgmental early on, underestimating people just because of where they originate from. Just because I'm from Eleven doesn't mean that I'm an early death, not all of us die. We have Victors for a reason, some people just don't understand. Never count someone out. ''Can you just go f-fuck off already?''

''Once again, I like tributes like you.''

''But I don't like bitches like you,'' I dare, not holding back at all.

''You really are weak on the inside.''

''I could care less what you think of me,'' I drawl. Noticing that we're closer to my Goodbye Room, I wiggle my arms and bump the Peacekeeper on the shoulder. ''Can you let go of me, I want to enter my Goodbye Room freely and without your restraining hold on me. It has to be done that way or else I'm not going in, I don't care what else you do.''

He says no, and just as he opens the door, I drop to the floor and begin to roll around. Grabbing me, he tries to pick me up by my throat, but I look down and think about what I'm about to do. He has no protection on his hands besides these thin gloves, so a bite would make him recoil.

Going through with my actions, I bite down on his hand, fitting three fingers into my mouth. He grunts and rips his fingers away, jumping back. Looking down at me, he rubs his hand and sighs. ''Fine, have it your way.''

Now standing up, I shake my hands loose of their numbness and step into the doorway of the opened room. Turning around, I gaze at that Peacekeeper and just stare at him for a couple of seconds. What I want to do right now is kick him straight in the genitals and turn away, but if he saw my family coming, he would instantly take them to The Square and whip them because of my actions – or worse, kill them.

And I can't deal with another death, not when it comes to the people that I care about.

When the Peacekeeper shuts the door, I sit down on the nearest couch. Still, that doesn't mean that the emotions that I felt have gone away. Placing both of my hands on my face, I gently pat my eyes and blink away the first tear that I feel will drop.

Brick by brick, I can feel my walls crashing down and my body becoming weaker. Just a few seconds after, I hear the door open and in comes my family and best friend.

Without a pause, my mother walks over to me and brings me into a hug. Elissa – my best friend – runs over and comes to hug me at the same time my mother does. ''Ceres, I'm so sorry that this happened to you!'' Elissa cries. ''Why you? You don't deserve this! Out of all people, and you've been through so much. I'm so, so, so sorry. I should've Volunteered and taken your place-''

''Elissa,'' my mother stops her there. ''I-It's not your fault, you can't blame yourself for this.'' She pats Elissa's back and then looks at me. ''Listen, Ceres, you're a strong and smart girl. I know you, you can do amazing things. You pay great attention to detail, you never underestimate anyone, y-you can win!''

Aster, my brother, saunters over to me. ''Thanks, mom.'' Wiping the tears and snot away from my face, I turn and look for tissues or just anything, really. Aster is already on it, without me saying a word, and grabs a box of tissues that hang on the lunch table on the far side of the room and hands it to me. ''Thank you.''

''No problem,'' he smiles. ''Sylvia couldn't make it to say goodbye because, well, I think the baby might be coming today.'' When he says this, I smile. Everyone does, really. It brightens up the mood, but then he switches the subject back to me. ''I'm sorry this happened to you, baby sis. Just keep being strong, be who you are and work like you always do. These Games won't be difficult for you if you have faith in yourself.''

''Yeah, listen to what your brother said,'' my father joins the conversation. He wraps his arm around Elissa's shoulder and pulls her closer into the family circle. He's always been one to treat others like family. After smiling down at her, he looks back up. ''Just be you, stay the same way you are and don't change for anyone. You're gonna do great, I know you will!''

He's trying to keep a masculine voice and stay strong for me, but I can hear the faintness of it. ''No, guy,'' I sigh. I've thought about it long and hard, and I know what I'll be doing during my time in the Capitol, and in the Games. ''I'm gonna get better, not stay the same. I'll work with sickles more, I already have some usage with them. Just... Just not on humans, but I know that I'll have to work hard.''

''Yeah, but like you usually do, don't you think that paying attention to people and what they're doing is more important? Like, scoping them out and seeing who you want as allies, not getting a target on your back by getting better? I mean, I understand wanting to improve your sickle skills, but you're already decent, what's the point on learning more and being seen as a threat?'' My brother asks.

''Mommy, Mommy!'' Poppy, my little sister – the age of three – runs from behind my Dad's back and makes her way into the middle of the group. She's picked up by my mom, who then gives her to me. Turning her head, she goos and smiles and laughs, the drool making its way down her chin. ''Sis!''

Setting her on my lap, I wipe away her drool with another tissue that I take from the box. I hold her tightly pressed against me, but not to the point where it hurts her. It hurts me, thinking that this might be the last time I'll ever see her again.

''That just won't do, Aster. Sure, my sickle skills are alright, but what's the point in keeping them the same if all I've ever used them on were fields of grass?'' I counter. ''I'll still be the same person. Of course I'm gonna watch people, I'll find out who's the strongest and most likely to be a threat during these Games and know who to stay away from and who I want to be allies with. When it comes down to the combat, maybe I won't know how to use my sickles against another person.''

''But maybe you won't have to! Just avoid the other competitors and play it out properly, try and stick with your allies until the amount of tributes left becomes scarce. Overall, a ton of tributes have won that way, it shouldn't be too hard for you to play the Games the right way!''

''The _right way_? No, Aster, you're wrong. There is no right way to play the Hunger Games, and the way you described that strategy, tributes haven't won like that in years. I don't remember seeing a tribute win the Games by hiding ever since I was a little girl. Maybe it was like that when you were born – two years before me – but it's never been the same. It takes physical contact to win now, and even if I do play it like that and make it to the end, I'm bound to eventually meet up with the final tribute. And then what? You want me to run and hide? Play it _the right way?_ ''

The room goes quiet.

''No, I won't do that. And the Capitol is sure to get bored of me,'' I hiss. ''I'm not saying that I want to fight people, I'm not saying that I want to kill. But when you think about it, when reality comes crashing down on you, you realize that you can't win the Hunger Games by being a coward and keeping away all the time. If I do have allies, I don't want to be the first to turn on them, but I know that there's a breaking point in every team – and there's also a breaking point in every person, whether it's when you're being murdered by another tribute, or you are the person murdering the other tribute.''

''Sis, what does murder mean?'' Poppy asks. I don't say anything, and neither does anyone else in the room. ''Come on, tell me, tell me, tell me,'' she begs. ''Pleaseeeeeeeeeee!''

Smiling down at her, I pet her hair and kiss her forehead. ''Stubborn as usual, I see.'' Aster groans. ''You're never gonna change for anyone, no matter what. You're always gonna be that defiant girl who goes by her way and her way only because she thinks it's right, even when it is wrong at times.''

''And?''

''Sometimes I think of you as a lost cause–''

''You know I don't care what you think of me, right?''

''—but other times, I know that you're right, and that not changing for anyone is what you've always done. That's what I've respected the most about you, and that's why I love you. No matter what people think of you, you don't care and never let them knock you down. You do you, Sis, and I'll always support you no matter what. I hope you know that.''

''I do, and that's why you guys make me so happy that I–''

''Out, out, out all of you go!'' The Peacekeeper from before comes in. We all stay silent, and my family begin to beg for just two more minutes to say goodbye properly. ''No! You've had plenty of time to say goodbye,'' he accuses. ''I don't care if you didn't finish properly, it's time to leave!''

Just when my family begins to depart, Elissa turns around, bends over, and kisses me on the cheek. She holds my hand and says, ''Ceres, I'll always love you. You're my best friend, and I want you to do good in the Arena for me, okay?'' She leans over and whispers. ''Now, I'm gonna buy you guys some time and distract the Peacekeeper. I don't know how long I'll have, but I'll do this last thing for you before you go. I'll see you later, okay?''

With her tears escaping, she runs at the Peacekeeper and hugs him, then begins dragging him out of the room along with herself, somehow. She's always been selfless, doing the most honorable of things that make anyone smile. But her true strength always shows in the end, when it counts the most, and I'll miss that about her the most.

''Ceres, we love you,'' my mother pants. ''I want you to carry out with your plan and work as hard as you can, and promise us that you'll come back, please!''

''I promise.''

''And Ceres,'' my father smiles. ''You'll always be my little girl. We're gonna be here, rooting for you no matter what. The decisions that you make are always for the better, and be confident with what you do. If you believe in yourself, there's no doubt in my mind that you can win these Games. We'll see you later.''

Dad reaches down and caresses my hair, then kisses my cheek. I wipe the tears away from his eyes and kiss him back. Aster doesn't say a word, he just embraces me for as long as he can and then lets out a struggling breath. I breathe slowly and force a laugh, telling him that everything will be alright. He nods his head and turns away.

''Where is sister going?'' Poppy asks.

''She's going to a bigger place, with children just like her, Poppy,'' Mom says. ''Go kiss your sister goodbye, you might not see her for a while.''

''Will she be coming back, Mommy?'' No reply. ''Will you be coming back, Sis?'' She asks as she turns to me. I nod. ''Good, because I want to see you again. Come back quicker so that we cans plays together and haves so much fun.''

''I will, and we're gonna have the most fun ever, okay?''

''YAY!'' She hugs me and kisses me. There's grunting outside, and just as I look, I see Aster pulling Elissa away from the Peacekeeper's grip and apologizing, saying that she has a hyperactive personality and can't control herself at times. The Peacekeeper doesn't say a word, rather coming back in here to make sure that everyone is out – and they are, everyone has left now.

Running my hand through my hair just as the Peacekeeper closes the door, a breath leaves me in a quiet exhalation. Narrowing my eyes, I step into a lean and soar away from the chair and drop to my knees on the floor, with my back pressed against the door.

As much as I try to hold it in, the pain comes out in an uproar from my throat in a silent scream. The beads of water come flowing down my face one after another, showing no sign of stopping. I slam my fists into the wall, wanting to scream, but alarming the Peacekeepers is what I'm trying to avoid. They don't need to see my tears.

But that's why my voice melts and the muffled sobs wrack against my chest. Everything around me turns into a blur, including the sounds. The sadness in my brain hurts. And the worst part is that I haven't had a feeling like this ever since I lost Oatis.

This pain is the only feeling that's ever been equivalent to how I felt back when he died.

* * *

 **A/N: Ayeeeeeee! So there was no school today (I wrote this yesterday and didn't touch it until today) and I was like, ''Yo, lemme get an update out,'' and here an update is. So hopefully this chapter was up to standards or whatever, I honestly have no idea what that means but it sounds nice. Just wanted to apologize for Cath's POV. Alright, so I know that I said in the beginning that there would be no disclaimers, and I meant that, but the situation that she was in was definitely a sensitive thing for some people, and there's more of her that people obviously don't know about that's also sensitive, so if you've ever been in a situation like that and it hurt, I'm sorry about that, but hopefully you skipped it once you caught on to what was going down between her and her Dad.**

 **As always, let me know if I fucked up your character or not. And once again, just PM me if you wanna know when your character gets shown. I don't mind letting ya know, you know? So I hope everyone's having a wonderful day! Sorry that I'm not really updating quickly, I'm just in the final week of school now and just got all of my study guides for my exams, so I'm spending most of my time studying for them and crap, so yeah. But luckily school's over next wee, so once Summer hits, I'll do my best to go HAM on these updates and get into the Games as fast as I can, cuz I've got a lot of plans for these tributes already. Also, I half-assed proof-reading like shit in this chapter, so sorry if there are many mistakes. I didn't care anymore and just wanted to get this up.**

 **Anyway, not much else to say during this A/N. But, if you guys need a SYOT to submit to, you should definitely go check out ''Emblazoned'' by Glitchkin, who's in a need of tributes. It has a really cool twist, so you guys should definitely go check that out! So yeah, that's all for now. Time for the questions!**

* * *

 **Thoughts on each tribute?**

 **Out of the 16 tributes that you've seen so far, who do you think has the best shot?**

 **Favorite POV and tribute?**

 **Least favorite POV and tribute?**

 **So, how are you? ;)**

* * *

 **Anyway, yeah, that's all for now. I'll do my best to get the first Train Rides POV up soon, I think you guys will enjoy the upcoming tributes and the relationships between District Partners. Eh, we'll see, but I think you all will. So yeah, that's it. See you guys next time, byee! ^-^**


	7. Adiós

**Train Rides Part I:**

* * *

 **Blush Belfleur, 18, District One Female**

* * *

Sitting down confidently, I let a smug smile purse over on my lips. I lift my right leg up carefully and cross it over my left leg, and take a sip of the orange juice that one of the Avox's brought to me. The little girl smiled once I thanked her – apparently nobody else has said 'Thank you' to her in a while – and thought that I was getting close with her. But no, I don't get close with anyone, and I'm sure she figured that out when I tested her emotions and verbally abused her. Sucks that she couldn't retaliate because of her tongue being cut, but I doubt she would've said anything back either way.

''You know what your problem is?'' Gari struts around the room, comes to a complete stop, and points his finger in my face as he leans into me. ''You don't get over things. You hold grudges and always want vindication! How annoying can you get?''

''I'm sorry, Gari, but vindication is what I desire,'' I state. Adonis and Hero stay back towards the corner of the room, speaking to the little girl as they discuss strategies, but it seems as if Gari and I disputing has caught their attention.''You obviously don't understand that craving for revenge because you've never had something as terrible as what you did to me happen to you.''

''Blush, I promise you that you will _not_ get the better of me, never!'' Gari swipes his hand. I chuckle, acting as if his response doesn't mean a thing to me. But on the inside, I just want to grab his face and twist it around, poke his eyeballs out, and watch him cry and yell out in pain, fear, and agony. ''You think this is funny, you inconsiderate hoe?!''

''Gari, I think everything that has to do with making you pissed is funny,'' I yawn. ''And you call me a hoe? Gari, you fuck everything that has a pulse. I'm surprised you don't have paper cuts on your dick yet.''

''You think you're funny, huh?'' Gari grabs a hold of my shirt, inches away from my chest. I glare up at him and toss the orange juice right in his face, watch as it stains the top of his shirt, and fall back as I laugh. ''What the actual fuck!'' He yells. ''You know what, I don't care. At the end of the day, I'm still making bank. I'm the one who's made it out of the Arena, not you.''

''Oh, Gari, I'm going to make it out of the Arena,'' I reply. ''Have you seen my work?''

''You didn't even graduate from the Academy! You weren't even the chosen Volunteer! What work do you have?!''

''Gari, you're obviously a dickrider when it comes to the Academy. Calm the hell down, I didn't need approval from anyone to Volunteer. I know of my work, Gari, I'm fabulous. I can do everything ten times better than anyone else in District One. Your Games were a fluke, everyone was basic and irrelevant,'' I say. Turning my head, I watch as Hero holds onto the ears of the little girl and whispers for her not to listen. Adonis sits back and chuckles silently, seeming amused by our conversation. ''What you've done is honestly nothing to what I'm going to do.''

''And what makes you think that?''

''Because I'm smart as fuck, beautiful, and talented,'' I keep my calm. Right now, I really want to get up and claw at him, yell at him, but this façade of mine has been everything to me for the past eighteen years of my life. ''And before you say anything, I could care less about the response you have for that. We all know it's gonna be shitty and unworthy of hearing.''

''Whatever you say, I doubt you'll make it past Day Three. But we'll see about that,'' Gari laughs. ''And it doesn't matter. At the end of the day, who's gaining racks and living the life that everyone else wishes they could have? Not you, didn't you have to rely on your parents, you poor ass bitch?''

''Are you honestly serious right now?'' I ask, wanting to mock him. ''Gari, remember what you used to tell me when we were talking? I thought you were a poor little scumbag who stole from others just to survive during the day and night? I thought your mother was unemployed and was going through a seriously broken heart? I thought that you had nothing to go home to, and that you were nothing compared to everyone else in the District? And now, with a little bit of fame, you think you're the shit. Sit the fuck down, I've been more wealthy than you in a year than what you've been your entire life. If you wanna talk about wealth, stack up all the money that I've had in my entire lifetime with what you've earned in that _massive_ house of yours in the Victors' Village, please. And then we'll compare.''

Gari goes quiet, and Adonis lets out a hollered laugh. ''You're good,'' he comments. I stare at the boy, eyeing him up and down, looking for his usefulness. He was chosen to Volunteer, along with his sister – who I took the spot of without permission because I wanted to get my revenge – so he must obviously have some worth. We'll see.

''You think that's funny?''

''Don't turn to him,'' I bark. ''Your business is with me.''

''Listen, I don't give a fuck what either of you say,'' he manages. ''When it's all said and done, I'll be sitting back relaxingly with my feet up on a table, holding onto the riches that I deserve. And you, you'll be dead. Just watch.''

''What does me being dead have to do with who has the most riches, Gari?'' I question. ''You changed the subject and now you want to switch it back because you've been beat. Look at the sweat dripping from your forehead, you're so pitiful. None of the things you say make sense, just like usual. You're so fake, it's upsetting.''

''None of my shit has to make sense, people just listen to what I say, unlike you,'' he rebutes. ''I just say that shit because I want to, you basic bitch. I can't fucking stand you!''

''You didn't tell me that you couldn't stand me when you were sucking on my manicured toes a while back,'' I bite. Adonis completely bursts out in laughter, and Hero coughs uncomfortably as he looks like he's about to freak out. Gari blushes in embarrassment. And Colette, she just starts to ponder and repeat the words to herself quietly.

''Hero, what's a basic bi— ''

''Nope!'' Hero falters just a bit, and removes Colette from the room. He turns away and spots me and Gari, both of our eyes meeting. ''Gari, could you come here for a minute, please? We need to talk about a lot; firstly...'' He looks down at Colette, and Gari mutters something under his breath.

He begins walking away, his hands clutched into balled up fists. ''See ya!'' I smile. Gari ignores me, and as soon as they leave the room, everything goes quiet. I turn and observe Adonis, who just sits there, still. ''Hey, kid, are you retarded? Or, impaired, if you want me to be less cruel? Or maybe you're just slow, if that helps?''

''No,'' he becomes amused. ''I just enjoy watching people interact. It helps me get a better understanding of what they're like, I'm sure you'd be able to understand that.'' I was right, he does have his usefulness. ''And slow isn't exactly how you would describe me...''

''Oh, I see, you're one of those kids who just hang back and watch everything unfold, never really getting into the action themselves unless the conversation calls for it,'' I catch on quickly. ''You're chill, I like that about you. You seem comfortable to be around, and you're good-looking, so that's a plus. But you're nothing special, probably just like all the other pretty boys from our District.''

''Just another pretty boy from District One? And I'm implying that you think I'll be an early death because every other boy from our District dies from something idiotic?'' He rolls his eyes. ''That's fine, if that's what you think. But you're forgetting that bitches like you always get screwed over in the end, whether you make it far or not. So, if you're gonna stereotype, at least add yourself into the mix.''

'' _Wow,_ you've got wit, don't you, kid?'' One thing I noticed, is that this kid doesn't ever falter. He's always calm in every situation, whether it's attacking him or attacking someone else. He enjoys the moments and loves sitting back, something new that I've learned. I love learning things about people like this, it makes it much easier to use them.

With Gari, whenever he's beaten in a verbal battle, he looks to attack someone who's less likely to bite back, like when he turned to Adonis just a few minutes ago. He seeks solace in gaining the advantage over those who don't seem like they're tough, but Adonis is. With his mouth and what people from the Academy have said about him, and how forward they were looking into watching the DiMae twins compete in the Games, I can tell that the kid's gonna do big things.

Adonis is someone who'd be easy to manipulate, someone that everyone could take advantage of if getting to know him. Though, I think the kid is smarter than to let anyone play into his fields. I'll keep him away, make sure he doesn't get too close and comfortable to me, because that's allowing him to take over and understand my emotions, but who says I can't enter his world and gain what I desire?

How people work is so fascinating, isn't it? Once you find out what you need, you can twist, bend, and turn them around with a finger snap. Adonis smiles and turns away from me, right when Hero and the little girl both walk back into the main lobby of the train.

''Where's Gari?'' Adonis asks.

''He's in his room, watching the Recaps by himself,'' Hero looks at peace, like a huge burden has been lifted from his shoulders. ''So, did you guys get to know each other and speak with your alone time?''

Staring down at the girl, I meet her huge, beautiful eyes. She smiles, I smile, but only to see how she interacts with others. She reminds me of myself, keeping people away at an arm's length and not really letting them invade her privacy and getting to know her. I like this girl, but I won't associate with her much, from what I can see. She'll grow up to be smart, I can see it now. With this childish guy protecting her, only good can come from it.

''Just a little bit,'' Adonis answers. ''She's had her first impressions on me, apparently being just like the _other_ regular One males, and I've had my first impressions on her. Nothing much, really, but I guess we'll get to know each other later.''

''Yeah, later,'' I mimick.

''That's better than nothing,'' Hero nods his head. ''So, who's ready to watch the Recaps and analyze together?''

''Me!'' Colette says. Adonis ruffles the little girl's hair and looks to Hero for guidance. They all walk into the Recap Room, and Adonis holds the door open for me as I'm the last one to enter.

''Thanks,'' I say. ''Hey, there's something. You're pretty polite and not a fake, cunning little bitch like all the others.''

''Someone doesn't mince their words at all, huh? You tell it straight up.''

''Damn right.''

* * *

 **Zeppelin Cross, 18, District Four Male**

* * *

''So, tell us how you two are feeling right now,'' Amille wonders. Turning my head a little bit, I stare at Clarice and drag my eyes back over to our Mentors. She sits comfortably and goes ahead, with me allowing her to start off first.

''I'm feeling good,'' she says. ''I did this for a reason, to better my life, actually. And if I carry out with my set of rules, I know that I'll be able to come back home to Four. There are things that I seek, and questions that I want answered.''

Brylan looks intrigued. I still can't believe that he's younger than the both of us. ''It's good to hear that you have something to motivate you, that's a big factor when it comes to the Games; most tributes don't have motivation and tend to give up quickly,'' he acknowledges, then turns to me. ''What about you? You've been quiet for a quite some time.''

Quietly, I pick my head up and meet eyes with Brylan, then turn to Amille. She smiles at me genuinely, mouthing that I go on and speak. When I lean back and stay quiet, she speaks up. ''Come on, there's obviously a reason why you Volunteered, Zeppelin! And I know that the reason wasn't just because you were the backup Volunteer or because you wanted to, you did this for something!''

Deciding to speak up, I answer shortly and simply. ''It's the only thing I have left.''

''Fair enough,'' Amille agrees. ''But... don't you want to go into further detail on that?'' Seconds pass by and they realize that I won't talk. Clarice's attention is focused on me, and it looks like she's about to get up and come to talk to me until one of the Avox's come in with two trays of hot coffee and bread with butter on the side.

''Right on time—'' Brylan says, but is quickly interrupted when the Avox trips over Clarice's feet. The Avox almost tumbles, but he twists his body to the left in order to make sure that he lands on the couch instead of on the floor. But with twisting his body, he accidentally drops the cup of hot coffee on Clarice's head, and the butter gets layed flat out on her outfit.

The coffee drips to the floor, and the Avox slips forward, doing a split and sending the second tray of food towards my head. Ducking just on time, I manage to escape the second cup of coffee that goes flying through the air, and get out of the way. Clarice looks completely infuriated, and gets up quicker than anything I've ever seen before.

She looks like she's trying to control her anger, but the Avox peers up and looks for something to ascend himself up with. He grabs onto the glass table full of goodies and lifts himself up, but during the action, he ends up hitting Clarice in the face with the backside of his left hand. Now over it, she's unable to control herself and attacks him.

Gripping the Avox's throat, Clarice shakes the soul out of him and slams him, face first, into the glass table. Repeatedly, she brings his head up and down until the man stops trying to struggle free. With a furious kick, she lands a brutal blow to his abdomen and all the air comes pouring out of the man, leaving him on the verge of becoming lifeless.

I twiddle my thumbs as this goes on, thinking about what my friend Dakota would have done in a situation like this – probably just yell at the Avox and curse for minutes on end. Shaking my head, I diminish that thought from my head and remind myself of the person I never wish to be. When I come back to reality, Brylan is pulling Clarice off of the Avox by her waist, and Amille is checking his pulse.

With a sigh, I fold my hands across my chest, and shake my head. ''Why would you brutally attack him like that?'' Amille asks, tending to the man. She says that he's good and that he has a pulse, but he's definitely knocked out cold for a while. ''He didn't deserve that, it was an acciden—!''

''That's what he deserves,'' I nod. Moving forward, I purposely step on the Avox's vulnerable fingers and kick him in the face. _I'm sorry._ On the inside, I'm upset with myself, shaking my head, even, but on the outside, I have to keep this strong appeal. I can't show any sympathy towards others, I've gotta stay cold. Noticing that everyone's staring at me, I add,'' Just something to deepen the wounds, y'know?''

''You two are—''

''No, Amille, I know what you're gonna say but hear this out,'' Brylan claps his hands together, and I cup my hands up over my face with my back turned to everyone. ''Both of them are fierce, they've got fire burning deep in them. Save that anger and use it in the Arena, at the Bloodbath. Those emotions are gonna guide you places, and maybe, if you learn to control them, one of you is gonna come out on top.''

''Whatever,'' Amille breathes. ''I think we should go watch the Recaps now, I don't wanna look at this anymore. If we stick around, one of us is gonna have to come up with an excuse on why the Avox would be needing a funeral because of these two.''

''I agree,'' Brylan comments.

The two Mentors lead the way and I follow after, turning back to see the Avox still lying down on the ground, but also breathing with the rise and fall of his chest. I shake my head in guilt, feeling terrible for kicking him in the head. He didn't deserve it. Nobody really does.

But this is what I've gotta do to leave a mark for myself, to show everyone that I can be the Career that not only my Father, but District Four wants. I can be that guy who feels no remorse for his victims, and does anything that he can to bring back another crown to his District. But what's hard is that I do feel bad, I do feel emotional when I do these things.

I know that it's wrong, but I also know that this is what's gonna help save me in the end. Narrowing my eyes, I ignore my surroundings and think about how willing I am. I mind doing this, but I also don't it at the same time. It's a balance of good or bad for me, and I'm leaning more towards the side that will benefit me and my District in the end. No matter how terrible I feel on the inside, it's still worth it. _Right?_

''Come sit, come sit!'' Palvena, District Four's Escort, says as she takes a sip of her mango smoothie and scoots over to the side. Clarice and Brylan take a seat next to her, Amille takes a seat on one of the beanie chairs in the middle of the room, and I sit near the air conditioning vent near the corner of the room, letting it flap my hair across my face. ''I was just on the District Three Reaping, but I can rewind it if you'd like, my sweeties!''

''Thank you,'' Brylan answers for us all. ''Now, before we start, I think it's a good idea to tell you guys to take notes. Focus on the tributes' reactions and how they deal with being Reaped or how they do when Volunteering, and mark who you know you for-sure want as an ally. Don't automatically assume that all the Careers are great, some could be a fluke.''

With that, Palvena presses the rewind button and restarts the Recaps.

In a surreptitious way, the cameras descend from the clear morning sky of District One and place a beautiful scenery on the sybaritic District Square. The crowd is roaring with applause, coming back from two Victors in a row. Not surprised, you'd see something relatively similar to that if it was Four. The Escort walks out calmly, wearing nothing other than what you'd say was common Capitol fashion, and starts off by announcing the District's win streak.

''Her outfit is absolutely sublime,'' Palvena twirls her hair and claws her hands in the air, making growling noises as she takes in how 'amazing' the Escort's outfit is.

She picks up a slip and calls out a random girl's name, and it doesn't surprise me to hear someone Volunteer in an instance. Although, this one was way quicker than I've ever seen before. The cameras zoom in on some girl's face, who looks absolutely shocked and unsatisfied with what's just happened. The girl who does mount that stage takes a look at one of the Mentors from One and glares at him. He mouths something to her, making it seem like they're adversaries or something. She introduces herself like most cocky District One girls do, and ends her speech the same way.

A boy gets called up, and this time, unlike the girl, the male Volunteer springs up with a bit joy. His Volunteering was definitely tantalizing, riling up the crowd. He introduces himself in a placid way and the two of them shake hands. Making eye-contact, the boy smiles but the girl turns her head away and keeps her focus locked on the Mentor. They exchange a couple of words, and I'm not sure whether it's playful banter or a heated argument.

''The girl is a stereotypical District One bitch,'' Clarice holds nothing back. ''The boy is over-the-top and looks like a strong opponent, but he's gonna fall a mighty death. Just look at how excited he was getting up there. Maybe it was just in the moment, but he's not gonna be someone to think of as a massive threat. Unless you count the sponsors that he'll receive for his charm and good looks, there's not much to fear when it comes to him.''

I stay quiet and keep my focus locked on the screen, watching carefully as District Two now appears. The people are ready for another year, knowing that their Volunteers won't disappoint them. After calling a girl's name, a Volunteer mounts the stage. In a stolid way, the girl announces her name as 'Sigrid Lapierre', and keeps an aura of mystery around her.

Palvena seems baffled by the way she announced herself. ''That's it?'' She asks. ''No, 'I'm going to do my best to give the District a Victor' nonsense that all these valiant Two tributes do? Either she's incongruous to the District, or she's just very good at hiding her perilous attitude.''

Now a boy is called, and this time it seems like there will be no Volunteer. He makes it halfway up the ailse until a boy from the eighteen-year-old section steps out and holds the boy by his shoulders. A look of mere regret flashes upon the boy's face, but he ultimately decides to Volunteer and take the other boy's place. He approaches the stage and once he gets up, he announces who he is and and leaves an amiable first impression on himself. _Wonder if he knew the boy he Volunteered for._

''He's cute!'' Palvena points out.

Besides that, nobody else says anything. Like, it's as if everyone else has been drained of thought and have no interpretation on these two tributes, so I rise to the call and state my opinions this one time. ''Sigrid's a girl of mystery, that's obvious by just how she started off. Not much to go off of, we'll just have to learn more about her later. And Atlas is definitely the charmer. With the good looks that he has and the personality that he's shown, it's easy to say that he's going to be a Capitol favorite who's gonna rack up the total number of sponsors. If he joins the Careers, he'll be incredibly helpful in our chances of surviving with needed supplies.''

''Look at you, Zepp!'' Amille says. ''Is it okay if I call you Zepp? I like your inferences, you seem like a natural at this. I think we all agree on Atlas, and Sigrid's just gonna be someone else to get to understand, just like Adonis. Seems as though the Careers have some interesting dynamics that are gonna form this year.''

''Ah, so you're not frugal after all, child,'' Palvena winks at me. ''You know, if you weren't so quiet, you'd be able to rack up sponsors as well. You've been blessed with handsome features, kid.''

Amille tells me to come sit next to her and slides over another beanie chair, but I ignore her and stay away. Getting close to people is a no for me, despite who they are. Amille's older than me – she's also my Mentor – but things could happen and in time, I might have to help her out and lend her my shoulder. Same goes for Brylan, Palvena, and maybe even Clarice. I've known Clarice before, we had a 'thing' a long while ago, but it's still not worth faltering and showing people that I can be soft – that I can be nice.

''And you can actually control yourself, unlike your pig of a District Partner over here,'' Palvena says, her face displaying such intense feelings toward Clarice. ''I saw what you did out there, heard you yelling, and to a poor, helpless Avox as well.''

''What the fuck did you just call me?'' Clarice bolts up.

''Oh, darling, please sit down, the wrinkles on your forehead are bulging and it's not a good look on you,'' she yawns. ''In fact, nothing is...''

''I don't know what your problem is, but—''

''But please sit down, I'm trying to avoid staring at you on this long train ride back to the Capitol. I have more important things to do than listen to an unstable girl who can't control her actions properly. Your mother obviously didn't do a good job in raising you, because you lack manners, darling.''

Clarice digs her fingers into Palvina's shirt, catching her skin and clawing through the fabric of the aero-colored tank top that the woman wears. She grabs the amber hair of Palvena and knocks away the smoothie in her hand with a high knee, growling as she pulls her closer to her.

Palvena sits there in absolute shock, as do Brylan and Amille. ''What are you doing?'' Palvena grunts, trying to pull away from Clarice's grip. She holds on tight, though, not allowing our Escort to get away. ''L-Let go! Get off of me, you're mad! T-The amount of t-trouble that you'll get in for doing t-this..!''

''You know,'' Clarice pauses and inches towards Palvena's face. ''I don't care what the consequences for my actions are. Make sure that I get no sponsors in the Arena, punish me with no desert after every meal, whatever you do won't matter to me. I couldn't care less with what I had to deal with for doing this to you!''

Rushing into action – a regretful idea of mine – I remove Clarice's grip from Palvena's hair and thrust her aside. With Palvena, I kindly stroke her cheek and say, ''It's alright, you're fine.'' She stares up at me with hurt but thankful almond eyes and mouths something that has to do with appreciation for me, and that I can make Four proud when it's all said and done. I now turn to Clarice, and she's absolutely freaking out, her body temperature soaring and her breathing happening at high rates.

''Hey, hey, calm down,'' I hold onto her shoulders. Unlike her reaction with Brylan, she begins to slow down her breathing with me, and relaxes her tense muscles. Her disposition has changed completely, all with one sentence. ''Look at me, hey. You're fine, don't listen to what an Escort thinks about you, prove them wrong and show them what you can do. Enough of that clamorous yelling, everything is gonna be alright.''

Clarice smiles for about a milisecond but I catch a small glimpse of it, and walks back to her seat, sitting down as she puffs lightly and pats her disheveled hair away from her face. Looking away from the rest of us, I realize that everyone else is staring straight up at me.

''Seems like there's a... lighter side to you, maybe?'' Amille realizes.

''Seems like we also might have an early relationship growing in the Careers,'' Brylan adds, in a whisper, though, so only Amille and I hear. ''He calms her down easily, but she's still fierce. If you think about it, the two could become close and be an unstoppable duo in the Games. They just have to trust and rely on each other. Honestly, it could potentially come down to them as the final two tributes.''

They both look up at me and smile at the exact same time. And this was exactly what I was trying to avoid, having someone seeking to rely on me, and me giving the support.

Oh, no. What have I gotten myself into?

* * *

 **Poet Monroe, 17, District Six Male**

* * *

Dallas sits in front of Bree and I, chuckling to himself as he tries not to spill the red whine in his glass cup. He snaps his fingers – and it's apparent that he's trying to get our attention – so I stare up, but Bree continues to look down and keep quiet. ''What's her deal?''

Sighing, I wipe away the tears that are still welled up in the corner of my eyes and turn to Bree. The only thing she's really doing is sniffling. Nothing more, nothing less, and it's sad to see her like that. Scooting closer to her, I compel myself to begin a conversation. I don't like seeing her down like this, or anyone, in fact.

''Hey, Bree,'' I acknowledge. She peers up at me for a quick second and looks back down, her eyes stained with the color of blood red. She's been quiet for the majority of the ride, and I just don't like how this is going. She doesn't deserve to be upset and quiet like this, she was so vocal before. Getting Reaped has gotten to her. ''You okay?''

''What type of scheme are you pulling, kid?'' Dallas brings himself into the conversation. He reaches out for the goodies on the glass table, and pops a purple grape into his mouth. Arrogantly, he begins talking with his mouth full and says, ''Don't try to show sympathy towards her, you're going into the Hunger Games! Have some fire in your soul. Be happy!''

Ignoring him, I turn back and grab a hold of Bree's left hand. She stops moving for a moment, and I can tell just how sad she is by how cold her hands are. They're soft but freezing, and she still hasn't moved. I grab her other hand gently and place one on top of the other, then state, ''I don't know you well yet, and I hope to soon, but just know that I'll always be here to talk if something's wrong.''

''...Thanks,'' she hesitates. ''But... we're going into the Games, how are you gonna always be there for me if I need something?'' I can hear the hint of sarcasm in her voice, but it's fine, honestly.

I now place my hand on her back, smiling at her. I don't know if she finds the friendly gesture weird or not, but I just want her to know that she'll have a shoulder to lean on if she ever needs one. ''Yeah, but we're not in the Games yet.'' I reply. ''We have a week before going in, so during those seven days, if you ever need it, I can be here to talk with you if you wanna get anything off your mind. I don't mind listening to whatever you have to say, because it seems like there's a lot you wanna let out.''

She doesn't have to stay quiet, but I don't mind if she does. I'll be willing to listen to any of the problems that she has, whether it's with our Mentors, with the Escort, another tribute, or just how she's feeling overall. ''Nobody deserves to be isolated and have to weigh everything on their own shoulders, Bree. I just want you to know that.''

''Oh, aren't you just sweet!'' Dallas interferes. ''Is this how the Six boys get around now, by acting all kind and considerate? You seem so thoughtful. All you Six boys get better and better every year and gain more and more play, don't you?''

''No, Dallas, it's not like that,'' I say calmly, looking at him with a soft smile. ''I just don't want to see her like this.''

''You don't even know her. What does it matter to you if you see her like that or not? Let her deal with it herself, at least you're not going to be one of those tributes who sulk around the entire Games. With any luck, she'll maybe get a sponsor or two for her looks.''

''Dallas, that's not a nice thing to say,'' I frown.

''I'm not a nice person,'' he rebutes.

I sigh. Dallas is a nice person, though. He's just ended up in the wrong place. I know that deep down, he cares for us and wants to see us succeed and wishes the best for us, but he's putting on this cold exterior. He's ended up in the wrong place, being rude and uncaring to those around him for no reason, and it's not right. He shouldn't be like this, it won't do him any good. ''Dallas, I wish you'd understand that you are a good person. Can't you—''

''Whatever you say is wrong, I hope you know that,'' he stops me. Bree tightens her grip and is suddenly squeezing my hand. I'm not sure what it's for, but when I look over at her, she's biting down on her lips, like she's trying to hold back even more tears from breaking through.

I'm about to open my mouth until she stops me. ''Don't even talk about Dallas being nice. He's not nice. How the hell is he nice if he's made fun of us throughout this entire ride?'' She claims. ''Oh, yeah, just because he's taking the time out of his day to say something to us – rude or not – that means he's a nice person, right?''

''That is what I am talking about!'' Dallas bounces up. ''Bree understands me! See, Bree isn't a nice person either! Oh, look at all that sarcasm, all that sass! The girl has an acidic tongue, Poet, is she also a nice person just like me?''

''Yes.''

''You just don't see people's flaws, do you? Me... I don't give a shit about either of you two, and when it comes down to it, Bree won't care about you,'' he laughs. ''You're funny, child. Don't you see people's intentions properly? Are you blind? You don't really understand people, do you?''

''No, that's not it,'' I try. ''People just aren't bad, things happen in their lives that make the road bumpy and change them. Nobody is truly bad, and nobody truly has bad intentions. It's just the things that happen in their life, Dallas. Just listen to yourself. On the inside, there's a good guy in there. You might be cruel now, but that's only to take your anger out on someone, and I understand that, but—''

''Are you trying to accuse me of something?'' Dallas rises to his feet once again, just after taking another seat. ''Don't assume things. You've been ignoring every bad part about everyone this entire ride! I do not care about either of you. Whatever bump it is that you're talking about, sometimes it doesn't exist. People have bad intentions because they choose to be that way, not because they fell into a darker side or whatever nonsense you're talking about.''

After he says this, Bree looks back down, I pout my lips, and our Mentors both walk into the living room of the train after discussing a few topics back in the dining area. ''So,'' Alexias claps her hands together. ''We've talked about you two, and we'd like to know whether or not you'd like to be mentored together or separately?'' She eyes our hands together. ''I'm guessing that's a yes?''

''I don't mind,'' Bree drawls; I nod my head kindly.

''You two sure?'' Dalan wants clarification. ''Once we decide this, there's no going back.'' The both of us nod again, but Bree nodding slower than me. Interlacing his fingers together and leaning against the wooden counter to the far left of the room, he exhales and agrees. ''Alright, well, we've got some questions to ask—''

''My mascara is simply fabulous, is it not?'' Dallas looks at his reflection in one of those mini-mirror cases. Bree looks at the decedant train food, her eyes picking out what she'd like to eat. She looks like she's going to decide on one of the large, powdered donuts, so I decide to use the kitchen utensil that's lying out right in front of us to grab it, place it on a large plate, and hand it to her. She nods at me in thanks, and smiles faintly. ''I mean, look at the way it's held up onto my face! It's simply marvelous!''

''No, it is not,'' I bring out the truth. Filling up my own plate of food, I take two triangle sandwiches and pour a cup of tea for myself. ''I'm sorry to say, but your eyeliner looks like someone attacked you with a Sharpie.''

He gasps and looks incredibly offended. ''How dare you!''

''Dallas, I can't lie to you like that. But you asked, and I'm telling you the truth.'' Making eye-contact with him, I continue. ''It looks like you used gallons of makeup today, and I'm serious when I tell you that I don't know whether you used a brush or just dipped your face in it. If you smashed your face against paper, you could make an incredible self-portrait.''

Jumping up, he seems as if he's about to lunge at me until he turns around and presses his face against the window. ''I'm sorry, Dallas, I really am, but there's a distinction between fabulous and smearing your face with something that doesn't need to be used to make you pretty. You can be pretty without the makeup, look at yourself without painting a mask.''

''You clown!'' Dallas shouts, throwing a tantrum like a child. He hops up and down and scoffs. ''How rude!'' With that, he storms off out of the room with puffed up cheeks and an offended facial expression. He begins to yell once he leaves the room, and his words slowly drift apart. ''Idiotic District children, always so rude and illmannered and..!''

They fade away.

''Anyway,'' Dalan moves on. ''We'd like to learn a couple of things about you two. If you wouldn't mind, would like to introduce yourselves?''

Bree keeps herself preoccupied in her food and takes small bites in her donut. She chews slowly and effortlessly. We both stay quiet, but I start brainstorming to find out something interesting about myself to share with the others. I'd love to get to meet them all more properly, and I guess the only way to do that is to start by going first, maybe?

''Like, just anything you want, really,'' Alexias smiles. ''Whatever you want to mention. There's no limit, we're just curious to learn about you two to see how we can make all of this work together.''

''Well, I, um, I have two siblings named Vito and Talita – they're twins – and I love them both to pieces, but sometimes I really want to avoid them. Vito's the snarky one who I wish would grow out of his phase the most, and Talita's the more harsh one who says a lot of terrible things.''

''Oh, go on?''

''I love helping people, I've always seen it as an act of kindness to show them that you're there to support them and help them out,'' I begin to grow a flow. ''I don't mind when they rely on me to help them out, I don't like seeing people in terrible situations, I like bouncing up at the situation whenever I can to make sure that people are feeling okay, and I used to love exploring District Six and going out to play with one of my best friends but...''

Bree quickly looks up at me just as I stop talking, seeming interested by my sudden stop but wanting me to continue. But my flow has perished.

''But?'' Alexias asks. ''Sweetie, continue, please. We'd love to hear more about this. You have us all locked around your finger now. You don't have to continue if you don't want to, but we're captivated...''

Sighing, I put my plate down and bestow the rest of my sentence. ''S-She wasn't j-just my best friend,'' I begin to grow emotional. ''She was my sister, a-and I loved her to bits. But she... She's no longer here with me. With anyone, actually. She... She's gone.''

The entire room becomes surrounded with a perpetual feeling of sorrow. Maybe it's just me, but I don't really feel anything around us anymore. Maybe it was just how the moment was brought up, or maybe it's what I was reminded of when speaking about myself. Either way, I don't really want to continue.

''Bree?'' I turn. ''If you don't mind, I'd love to hear a couple of things about you.''

* * *

 **Ceres Golovin, 12 District Twelve Female**

* * *

''Wow!'' Ocelot is so fascinated in Jay – our Escort. This is his first year being an Escort, but he seems like a professional. Ocelot sits right next to him, following his exact movements as Jay stops just as a fork and a meatball are halfway into his mouth.

I consider getting up and leaving the room, but I don't do so only because our Mentors told us to stay put for a little bit. Calieh told me that he was going to talk to me individually, but he was evidently sick when he started coughing roughly, balls of spit flying out of his mouth in a disgusting manner.

Pulling the hood of the jacket over my head, I sit and censor myself away from Ocelot and Jay. It's like I mentally block out their communcation and leave myself in a dead-set creepy environment. Being Reaped replays over and over again in my head, from the moment I just abruptly thought that it couldn't have possibly been me that was called, to the moment where I just fell and wailed.

I try to get up, using my weak, trembling arms as support, and I stand, until my shaky legs collapse and bring me down to the floor instantly. My arms smack against the table full of delicacies. Instead of getting back up, I let my sore body just lie there on the floor.

The only thing that I do is curl up against the table legs and hold my jacket around me – my dirty white jacket, where all of my disheveled hair straps itself onto. Mentally, I'm screaming. I have to bury my face in the dingy fabric of my jacket sleeves to muffle the little noises.

I'm struck by a feeling of falling – falling into some deep dark pit full of assorted poisonous insects. Nothing feels the same. The world just doesn't seem stable anymore. How could someone possibly do this to others? It's been a hundred and seventy-five _years!_ Surely you'd think something like this would have been over with ages ago, but no! And now I'm being sentenced to my death! And what for?!

Jay approaches me and places a hand on the back of my shoulder. He picks me up and places my arms around his shoulders, then places me back down on the coach where I lie there, shivering. Sitting next to me, he begins to poke my shoulder until I respond. ''Are you okay?''

''N-No...'' I swipe my jacket sleeve across my nose. My snot sticks onto my jacket sleeve, which is disgusting to all three of us, especially Ocelot – he went as far as to shout out 'Ew!' from the other side of the room. Though, neither him nor I should be disgusted by this. We originate from District Twelve, where things are ten times worse than boogers. ''I'm sorry.''

''Don't be.'' Jay walks out of the room and back in a couple of seconds, with a roll of paper towels this time. He rips out at least five of them and cleans up my sleeve for me. I thank him and he says, ''Don't worry about it.'' We sit there awkwardly for a couple of minutes, but then he begins speaking again. ''Were you crying because of being Reaped? Again..?''

Nodding my head, I let out a small mhm and try to hold back more tears from falling as I crinkle my nose. ''Listen,'' Jay instructs. ''Don't cry. You're acting as if you're already dead. You haven't seen either of the other tributes yet, or made it into the Arena. Don't act like it's over, there's no reason to cry early on.''

''Yes, I know,'' I say kindly. ''But I'm not stupid, Jay. I may not be the smartest kid out there, but I know that a twelve-year-old like me doesn't stand a chance in these Games.'' I snivel. ''There are always Careers with bloodlust in their eyes, and even some stronger Outer District tributes. How am I supposed to compete against them?''

''Ceres, have faith in yourself,'' he commands. ''Okay, yes, there are always the Careers that everyone in the Capitol roots for and spends money to sponsor, and maybe District Twelve children usually don't do all too well,'' he stares at me with a weak smile. ''But the only reason why that happens is because you guys don't believe in yourselves. I can ask any Escort who's ever spoken to a District Twelve child and they would all say that Twelve tributes had no hope and always gave up. But you, I see something in you, and Ocelot, too. You both have the strength to go far, if only you believe in it. You can be the underdogs!''

Smiling, I begin to fiddle with my fingers. ''Well...''

''No wells, Ceres.'' Jay takes me by my hand. ''You can't—''

''How can you cry in front of a Capitolite?!'' Ocelot looks dumbfounded. ''I mean, they're great! He's right, this is why we really don't ever get anything. Inferiors like you from Twelve always make a fool out of themselves whenever they're around such greatnes—''

''Ocelot, now is not the time,'' Jay warns. Ocelot quiets down and smiles, nods his head, and takes a seat. ''Now, listen up, the both of you. Ocelot, we've talked, you're a smart kid. You have the analytical thinking thing down, I know that. Ceres, you're an adorable little girl. You and Ocelot are both mature for your ages, and both intelligent in your own ways.''

''Thank you,'' we both say at the same time.

''I don't want to see either of you crying, especially not you, Ceres,'' Jay pats my cheeks. ''When you're in those Games, don't think that you can't survive. Twelve year olds are just as likely to win as eighteen-year-old trained killers, okay?''

Jay gets back up and takes his seat next to Ocelot. I can't help but start thinking rationally – it's just who I am, someone who looks evenly for the pros and cons of a situation. He's right, maybe we do have a chance at winning. District Twelve has Victors – most of them are dead now, but we still have Victors. They won for a reason, because they didn't give up. They fought against the Careers, they fought against the other tributes, they fought against the Capitol. And even though they went through Hell and back, they still powered through, and that's inspiring.

But then again, there's only been _one_ twelve-year-old Victor in the Games' history. She's currently Mentoring the District Five tributes, but she won because the Games destroyed her. People who were once like her, innocent and sweet, had to go through suffering and pain. And District Twelve hasn't had a Victor in almost eighty years. So when you add that with District Twelve's losing streak, with almost ninety tribute bodies counted in Twelve overall, and our Mentors being two elders who have most likely forgotten their older strategies, one of us winning this year is a very slim chance to none.

But Jay is right, we've gotta have some faith. _I_ gotta to have some faith. ''Hey, Jay,'' I grab his attention. Both him and Ocelot look at me at the same time. ''Thank you.''

''Anything for you, honey,'' he states, and then begins to finish his meal. Ocelot pays attention to him closely and follows his exact movements. ''Do you still want to learn how to use a knife and fork properly, Ocelot?''

''Yes, Sir! I mean, yes, Sir, please,'' Ocelot says. It's nice to see the both of them together like that, smiling and having fun. I've never seen an Escort like Jay before – one who's kind and considerate and actually takes the time out of their day to reassure a tribute like me that anything is possible. I wish there were more people out in the world like him. He's the type of person who'd stay by your side forever, and you'd want to do the same thing right back.

''Okay, so here's how it goes. You're right handed, I suppose?'' Ocelot nods his head. ''Alright. You hold the fork in your left hand and your knife in your right when cutting your meal, as I'm doing now with this meatball. After cutting the food in half, place your knife down on the edge of your plate, it's proper, and switch your fork to your right hand to eat, with the tines facing upwards.''

''Like this?'' Ocelot exerts his energy to copy the exact same thing that Jay has done.

''Just like that!'' Jay holds his hand up and Ocelot high-fives it, a large grin on his face. Ocelot notices me staring through his peripheral vision and his smile fades, as does mine. ''There's a second way to do this as well. It's almost the exact same thing, except people in the Capitol tend to use this way more because the fork remains in your left hand, and the knife helps coax your food onto your fork. The tines remain facing downwards this time. Like... this.'' Jay observes Ocelot properly cutting up his food and hollers proudly, praising him for his valiant efforts. ''Ceres, would you like to try as well?''

Shaking my head, I place my chin onto both of my fists as I lean against my knees. Jay continues, though. ''I would teach you how to drink properly, but you're too young to drink.''

''It's okay, I can drink when I'm older and live in the Capitol!''

 _Assuming he lives that long_ , reality sinks in just as I was about to smile at his hopes and dreams. I shake those thoughts away from my mind and continue to observe Jay holding out his pinky as he holds up the stemware and fills his cup half-full with red whine. ''Don't fill the cup all the way, that's trashy not classy. You also don't just drink whine, you have to pair it with an aroma of food that matches the flavor.''

Jay goes on about how whine goes good with certain types of foods, especially cheese, apparently, and reaches his arm out to take a stick of mozarella cheese. Ocelot looks to grab it for him, but in the action, he accidentally elbows Jay's hand and causes Jay to spill the stemware with the whine all over himself. ''Oh, my God, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!''

''It's fine,'' Jay reassures. He looks around for something to dry himself off with, but there's nothing around. I get up with the paper towels that he grabbed for me and walk over to him with them. The whine is spilled all over the top of his outfit, drenched around the bottom of neck where his chest is located, and around his shoulders. I quickly begin to pat down the whine until at least three-fourths of the paper towels have been used and Jay's shirt isn't _that_ wet anymore.

''Wow, thanks,'' Jay smiles at me. I tell him that it's no problem, that I don't mind helping people out. It's nice to be kind to anyone whenever I can be, and I'll always do my best to help out. Ocelot tries to pick up both of the plates by himself to move them away from everyone else, but with his unsteady balance and the sharp knives both on the edges of the plates, it looks like they're about to fall off and bury themselves in his chest.

One knife ends up tipping, and I quickly remove the plate from his grip as I yell, ''No!'' He's taken aback and loses his proper balance, tipping backwards towards me. This is like a trust fall situation, except the knife is being tipped closer towards me rather than him. It's either hold Ocelot up and save him from getting his head slammed into the ground, or get myself stabbed.

I choose self-preservation and remove myself from the area of where a potential accident could've occurred. Ocelot is about to slam hard against the floor until Jay comes in clutch and pulls him up, right before the impact would've happened. And it's like Joydin appeared from thin air because she pops up out of nowhere. She grabs the knife that's about to land right in front of my feet and places it on the table.

''Looks like this old lady's still got some skills,'' she smiles. Tilting her head back and forth, she says: ''It seems like you've all gotten to meet each other already. That's nice, but please be more careful next time. I love all three of you and really don't want to see either of you hurt already. Yes, that includes you, Jay.'' Jay blushes a little and stutters. Joydin begins laughing weakly and then comes to a slow stop. ''Ceres, Calieh will be out in just a minute or two. He's currently recovering from his pain medication. But when he does return, we have questions we want to ask the both of y... you!'' She coughs.

I pat her back softly and hold her hand as soon as I reach her, trying to get her to sit down. Once I do, I stand up with my hands on my hips and sigh. Ocelot gets my attention by quickly standing up and tapping my shoulder. He stands right in front of me, his eyes meeting mine, and asks, ''Why'd you save me? From the first incident, I mean.''

It doesn't take me that much time to find the appropriate words to say.

''Because we're District Partners. And whether we're allies or not, I'll always stay loyal and do the best I can to help out people who've come from my own District.''

Though that might not happen during the Games. My partners, who would be my main priority then, would be the people that I'd stay the most loyal to in the end. But even then, if I ever see Ocelot in the Arena, I hope he knows that I'd always help someone from home out. And that means him.

''And you know that you were trying too hard to get on good terms with Jay, right? He likes you already. That's why the accident occurred initially, because you weren't being _you._ Just be yourself, don't try too hard to be exactly like him, add your own little twist to wanting to be a Capitolite. Don't forget about the things you learned from home.''

He can trust me. I'd never let anything bad happen to anyone here – on this train, right now – as long as I can prevent it.

* * *

 **A/N: Ayeeee! So there's a lot to say, but I'm not going to because school ended yesterday and the first day of summer has officially started, and I don't wanna spend it writing out paragraphs about some random crap that's happened in my life on this A/N. So, just want to apologize about Zeppelin's POV being larger than the rest. I kinda really got into the flow of writing him, and it was absolute fun. Hopefully I did him right? (I should rephrase that) Ahahaaa, his creator knows who he is... Ahaaaaaa. Hopefully I wrote all of your tributes right so far. Don't hesitate to call me out if I fucked them up. And hopefully you can tell, but I had so much fun writing all four of these tributes. Especially Blush and Zepp, these Careers have this thing, man. Idk, I'm enjoying this a yeah! Enough of me talking, onto the questions. Same old, same old.**

 **This is nothing new, maybe in a different order now? I don't know, I tend to forget. Buttt, I'm not rereading this A/N. So much stuff to do, y'know? But since it is summer, you can expect more frequent updates (hopefully), so I'll do my best to get much quicker chapters out. Especially because I really want to get into the Games, because I have sooooo many ideas for all of these tributes already and have my deaths planned out and who goes through that tought ass development and everything and I'm just so hype to get down to business and start the BB, so I might mix some chapters into one. Like having the Chariot Ride prepartions and Chariot Rides in whole together in one chapter. Some shit like that. Anyway...**

* * *

 **Thoughts on each tribute?**

 **Favorite POV/tribute?**

 **Least favorite POV/tribute?**

 **So, with four more tributes added to the list, I'd love to see who some early predictions on each tribute? Or, just, like, who you think would be a top 5 out of the 20 tributes you've seen so far?**

 **I hope everyone's having a great day. This isn't a question, but just a friendly... saying? Idk, but yeah. :)**

* * *

 **Anyway, I'm done for now. Yup, gotta go outside, spend time with friends, get that six pack that I've been wanting for eight years of my life after constant hardwork with basketball practice and games but it seems like this childish boy who looks like he's eight (me) can never gain that strong muscle and has to stick with being that average body size. Nooo. And I can't forget about slaying hoes on 2K. So yeah, that's all for now. I'm gonna hate getting phone calls from coach saying, ''Get to the courts in five minutes for practice.'' But yeah, enough about my first world problems. See y'all next time. Bye! ^-^**


	8. Competition

**Train Rides Part II:**

* * *

 **Beckett Leighton, 18, District Five Male**

* * *

Cassia sits right next to me, along with Kelsin, while Jonah stands up and paces across the room. His hands are locked behind his back, right under his waist, as he looks back and forth between the three of us sitting on the couch, and Davina, our Escort.

This whole entire train ride is just in a state of awkward. Cassia stares at her nails, admiring how well manicured they are. Davina can't help but comment on her own accord, complimenting the fruity colored specks that divide all over her nails.

I continue to stare at my Escort, and she inclines her head, meeting my eyes. The moment becomes even more awkward, but I try to cheer it up by smiling. Davina lets out a loud gasp and places both of her hands on her heart, showing off her manicure this time. ''Oh, my God!'' Cassia stands up. ''W-Where do you find that type of nail polish?''

''No, no, no, that's not important right now!'' Davina perches up and begins wobbling in her high heels, trying to approach me. Her violet afro sways in the motion, until she comes to an abrupt stop right in between both Cassia and I.

''Um, Davi—?'' Kelsin tries, but is quickly shushed. Davina presses the palm of her hand flat against Kelsin's lips, and just leaves it there.

''How... How are your teeth so white and shiny?!'' She asks. ''I mean, _my_ teeth are shiny. But yours... They're... They're on a whole different level! I don't see a single spot of yellow or a single mistake in them. They're... _perfect._ ''

Jonah peers down at me, and I can't help but begin laughing and then smile as soon as the humor dies out. ''Hey, don't compliment mine,'' I say. ''Mine aren't even perfect; if anything, _yours_ are perfect. Just look at how they sparkle in the light. I swear, you could make someone go blind if you flash a grin their way.''

She purses her lips. ''You think you're funny, huh?'' I smile cheekily at her, trying to show her that I'm being genuine here. ''Actually,'' she adds. She's giving me the same look that everyone else tends to give me – she thinks I'm weak. She has that same grimace on her face that everyone else puts on, but quickly changes it into a sick smile. ''Thank you, you're very... kind and strong for cheering up a little 'ol Capitol lady such as myself.''

It's as if she thinks I'm stupid, like I can't see through her disguise. ''Yeah, it's no problem.'' I smile again. Her negativity has no means of my interest. I'd rather look behind that and get away from the pessimistic side of her.

''Those pearly white teeth sure do flaunt, don't they?'' She spits. ''Too bad you don't shine the same way. You're lucky you have those, I don't see you getting anywhere with sponsors, or being liked, if it weren't for that prized possession of yours that are so permanently attached to you.''

''Hey, that's fine.'' I smile and nod my head. ''If the smile is what makes me shine, then so be it. I hope the Capitolites won't have too much of a problem with that.''

Quickly, the expression on her face changes into a grimace. She looks so annoyed, with a vein in her forehead that continues to bulge, being the only easily recognizable detail to her. ''How positive of you to be that way...'' She bites down on her bottom lip. ''Well, I hope the best of luck to you in your journey to the Arena, kid.'' Her words quiver, showing just how fake she's being. She doesn't mean it, but I don't mind. ''You're gonna need luck to survive.''

She turns away, and goes to grab a book off of the shelf in the far right corner of the room, near the Recap Room. There are flat screen television screens all around, but our Mentors chose to enter that room instead. I don't know why, but it wasn't a problem when we had a chance to see the other tributes. ''Hey, look,'' Davina grabs all of our attention. ''A book about every Victor, and how they won their Games – _and_ their best attributes, including pearly white teeth. Hopefully you'll be in here, although I severely doubt it.''

''As long as you give me hope, I think I'll be fine,'' I retaliate. She groans, rolling her eyes as she shoves the book in her face to try and mask how difficult I'm being with her right now.

''Wow!'' Cassia grabs my face, her nails basically digging into my skin. ''They really are shiny! Did you put Bleach in your mouth and rinse it out to get them that white? If that's how you did it, then I'm totally gonna do it that way, too!''

''I wish he put Bleach in his mouth,'' Davina scoffs.

''Of course!'' I say sarcastically, poking fun with Cassia. ''You can get shiny teeth like this if you try!'' I enthusiastically cheer her on. Jonah and Kelsin both begin to chuckle behind me, listening as we engage in small-talk. ''I can teach you how if you want me to?''

''Oh, really?'' Cassia places a hand on me thigh, oddly close to my... uh, yeah, and inches upwards. She leans in closer to my face and whispers, ''I'd love if you'd teach me how to put Bleach in my mouth like you do to get teeth like that. If you wouldn't mind, that is?'' She blows a kiss.

I chuckle. The girl's fatuous, but that's no problem. People like her can be fun at times. ''Ha ha, no, I was just kidding,'' I laugh. ''But, just brush your teeth a lot, I guess. You can do anything if you put your mind to it, not just get white teeth like this. Keep your mind focused and reach for what you want, you can do anything, then, alright?''

I know for a fact, just like everyone else, that that had nothing in particular to do with the whole teeth situation, but Cassia seems like a girl who relies on other people way too much. I want her to know that she doesn't have to ask people to learn how to do things, and that she can figure out a lot on her own, but if she ever needs help, then yeah, go ahead and ask.

She reaches for my spectacles and takes them off. Inching closer to my face, she begins speaking again. ''Oh. Thanks for letting me know. Maybe you can teach me how to brush my teeth properly some time, one-on-one and in personal? I'd love that, Beckham.''

''It's Beckett.''

''Beckett.''

''But you can just call me Beck, I go by that instead.''

''Alright, so,'' Jonah says. ''Kelsin and I have been talking, and we'd like to speak about strategy. Would you two be willing to work with one another?''

''As long as I get something out of it,'' Cassia goes back to looking at her nails.

''We'll take that as a yes,'' Kelsin smiles. She stares straight at me and then continues. ''But we'd like to get to understand you two a bit more. As you know, the Games have a wide variety of types of weapons to choose from. All are blades, but there are different types. We know that you're not Careers, but do you think you could possibly work well with spears, swords, knives, or whatever, really?''

''Knives!'' Cassia chimes.

''Alright, and what about you, Beck?''

''Uh, I'm not really sure right now,'' I state. ''But I'm quite tired, so sorry. I think I'll just go back to my room and maybe we can talk later? Sorry, I just have a headache right now and don't want to be a burden to you guys. But I'll try to see if I can recover quickly, and if we still have time, let's talk more.''

''That's okay,'' Jonah says. ''Rest well.''

''Don't let the bed bugs bite you in the crotch,'' Davina shouts. ''Oh, nevermind, this is a Capitol train, there are no hideous insects lurking around here! Besides you, that is.''

''Your jokes are the best, Davina,'' I laugh. ''I'll be looking forward to talking to you the most from now on. Until then, goodnight.'' With that, I leave through the automatic doors of the train and listen as they close. Immediately after I've left, Jonah and Kelsin begin talking among themselves.

''Cassia, we want you to find an ally who'll be loyal to you, and help you out at any means necessary. Beck might or might not be that ally, so keep your eyes open for new sources, alright?''

''Okie dokie!''

''Jonah,'' Kelsin whispers. ''I don't want to be rude about Beck or anything, but I don't like how he doesn't stand up for himself when being talked down to like that. Davina was being arrogantly rude to him for no reason, and all he did was sit there and smile. It's frustrating! How is he supposed to survive if he can't even put a rude Escort in her place?''

''I don't know, but I've been thinking about the same exact thing as you. I wanted to grab his shirt and smack him, but he was pretty funny with his sarcastic humor. It was playful, but the kid's too nice. I'm not sure where we're gonna go with him.''

Removing myself from the vociferous area, I walk into my room, throw myself onto my bed, and cover myself in the sheets. On the walls are multiple paintings of famous Capitolites and Victor Posters of District Five tributes – or former tributes who came out alive, I should say. While lying face down on my bed, I leave myself vulnerable to my thoughts.

 _They don't like you, don't you understand? Your small-talk, they find it annoying. Your kindness, it's also annoying. They can't wait for you to die, Beck. You're weak. They don't want you around them, nobody does._

I thrash against the bed, ripping the sheets off of me almost instantly. _They hate you, they hate you, they hate you! Nobody wants you around, just kill yourself now! You're worthless, you'd never be able to win the Hunger Games. No matter how kind you are to the ones who don't deserve it, nobody will return the kindness to you. Just die already._

''NO!'' I grab a hold of the first pillow that's under my head and swing it around, knocking down the table lamp that's a few feet away from me, causing it to crack as soon as it forcefully makes contact with the floor. ''No, no no!''

In the haze of the afternoon, I can feel the loose shirt start to cling to my back. My legs are empty and there is a rising feeling of nausea from my stomach. I roll out of bed and stagger to the bathroom to gawk at my sweaty form. Right now I look even more like my father. I'm white like him down to my brown hair and spectacles.

Sweating makes me look like I need someone to dunk me in an ice bath fast, anything to put out the fire burning in my cheeks.

* * *

 **Fidan Blanchett, 17, District Seven Male**

* * *

''Hey, why are you eating so much?'' I ask my District Partner, who's currently stuffing her face with muffins. She ignores me and continues to chew on her food, avoiding any type of contact with me altogether. She finishes the two muffins that were already in her hands and looks to grab another one, but I quickly swipe my hand to get one for her. I hold it out and she just eyes me, looking disgusted. ''Sorry... I don't get why you're so hungry, anyway. Didn't you eat breakfast before you were Reaped?''

She grabs the muffin from my hand and puts it away, ignoring the kindness I tried to show towards her. ''I was just trying to help out,'' I say, trying to reach for the muffin again. I get up and try to get past her, but her legs are sticking out, so I slowly step over them. My left foot gets hooked against hers and I fall, slamming into the ground roughly. ''Whoops, clumsy me, sorry!''

My District Partner gets up, walking away like she's done with me. ''I said sorry! I was just trying to help so that I could get to know you better, I don't know why you're acting strange,'' I try. ''Still, I don't get why you're eating so much. Are you just that hungry? I've never been hungry in my life. What, are you poor or something?''

''No, I'm not poor at all. I'm rich, wealthy, well-off, to tell you the truth, I just choose not to eat because I take my situation for granted!'' Her tone is shaky, sarcastic, even. I'm about to say something until she interrupts me. ''No, I'm not rich, you condescending asshole!''

I keep myself quiet, reconsidering what I was going to say. ''Sorry about that,'' I apologize. ''But hey, it's alright. If you want, I can help you with whatever your needs may be.'' Then I wink.

''Oh,'' our Escort giggles. She sits back, relaxing as she crosses her legs together and stares at the two of us. ''Aren't you just a charm!''

I still don't know my District Partner's name, but she doesn't look like she cares for what I'm saying... Huh? That's weird, my charm tends to usually work on people. She looks so uninterested, like I'm boring her. ''You're so cool, you know?'' She lies.

''You're pretty cool, too, all quiet and introverted and crap. Bet you have a lot of friends back at home, don't you?'' I reply in a snarky manner. Our Escort begins clapping as she laughs.

''Go on!''

''Do you ever shut up?!'' She snarls, getting up angrily. I take a step back, holding my hands out to tell her to calm down. ''Everything that comes out of your mouth is so annoying!''

''Hey, I'm just trying to be nice and start a conversation with you, but you're being boring and reserved.''

''Can you shut the fuck up? You always have something to blurt out with that smart ass mouth of yours, don't you?''

''You should show me how.'' I can't help but accidentally say. Our Escort – who's name I also don't know – goes back to laughing hysterically, almost crying. She goes at it for a couple of minutes, the sound coming out of her mouth resembles one that someone who was choking would make.

Relmo stands up after staring at us for such a long time, and Chantell quickly follows. He begins talking. ''So clearly you two won't work out, and definitely aren't gonna be allies in the Arena, that's clear to see.''

''Of course not,'' she agrees, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. Chantell takes a seat next to my partner, taking a lemon off of the fruit tray.

''Fine, that's no problem. But we'd like to know what you two like to work with.'' She takes a bite out of the lemon, grimacing when she gets a taste of the resinous and astringent pulp of the seeds. Composing herself after a few seconds, she looks around, chuckles nervously, and continues. ''What type of weapons would you guys be considering to use?''

''I can work with an axe well.''

''That's good, Sawyer.''

Sawyer! That's her name. ''Yeah, but I don't know if I'd be able to bode well with using an axe against a person. Using them in the lumber yard was easy, but this is a whole different scenario.''

''That's why we're here to help you out with that.'' Chantell places a hand on Sawyer's shoulder, then turns to me and smiles. ''What about you?''

''Uh... I-I don't really know.'' I say.

''Well, can you use an axe?'' I shake my head, silently answering Chantell's question. ''Maybe a spear?''

''Nope.''

''What about a hammer? Or a knife? Sword? Bow and arrow? A pickaxe, even?''

''Sorry...''

Relmo ponders to himself while standing up, staring at me with disbelief in his eyes. Probably thinking about how a boy could come from Seven and not know how to use a weapon. ''Got it!'' He comes to a conclusion, arrogating the conversation into his playing field. ''What about traps? Or maybe snares?''

''What about both!'' I consider. Relmo nods his head, but Chantell looks skeptical about my decision, not entirely sure if it would actually benefit me or not. I'm not quite sure what's running through her mind right now, but she decides to just go with it.

''Good luck using traps,'' Sawyer says. I question her, wondering why I need luck. ''Because who's going to fall into something that you put up? You, out of all people? You think anyone would fall for a trap someone as ridiculous as you would set up?''

Pretending to be hurt, I immediately begin fake crying. ''How could you possibly say something like that to me? It's like you have no faith in me, like you think I won't be able to survive! You've already given up on me and we haven't even hit the Capitol yet!''

She looks a little hesitant, but scoffs as she turns away. Relmo pats my back, buying into my fake stunt. ''All I wanted was to be nice to you and become your friend, but you've been so rude to me for no reason throughout this entire ride!''

''Because I don't need kindness, I don't need friends!'' She's fractious, screaming as she stands up again. ''We're going into the Hunger Games! What the fuck do I need your kindness and help for, you piece of shit?! You think your kindness is gonna save me from the slaughter that's gonna happen in there?!''

''Sawyer, calm down,'' Chantell helps her out. Relmo leaves my side and goes to sit down next to Chantell and help calm Sawyer down. ''Hey, it's okay, we'll help you. You don't need to be upset, we're here for you if you need anything. That's why we're your Mentors, to keep these emotions of yours under control and assist to make sure that one of you two come out of the Arena alive.''

''If one of us wins, it's not gonna be him. Look at him, he's crying on the floor like a little _girl._ Do you really think that he could stand a chance?''

Quickly, I turn around. ''I'm a _boy_!''

''Fidan, don't star—''

''Don't call me Fidan, please! I go by Fitz!'' I pause. ''And she talks about me like she knows me. First she says that I'm annoying when all I'm trying to do is help, then she talks about my gender like she knows what I've gone through! She does not know me, but decides to be rude for no reason at all!''

This gets to all of them, though they don't realize that I don't mean any of this right now. Well, besides some of it, actually. I'm acting and they don't suspect a thing, thinking that the crying was real and that the emotions were, too.

Both of our Mentors sigh and turn back to Sawyer, like she's the more important one here. ''Alright, well, since you already know how to use an axe, you're obviously accustomed to how it works, and you know how to hold one properly for the best results, don't you?'' Relmo asks.

''Yeah,'' Sawyer nods her head.

''Good, the Gamemakers are gonna like that a lot. When you're in the Training Center, you should do some combat training with one of the guards. Use your axe to try and see how you can do on a human. And just for early measures, don't be hesitant. They have armor that helps them stay safe, so go all out,'' Chantell advises. She's _my_ Mentor but she's helping her out!

''I'd also suggest gaining allies, but if you can't or just don't want to, go for the survival stations.'' Oh, great – they're both more focused on her than me. ''Those help out quite a bit. They usually have small portions of plants and mutts that'll be featured in the Arena, so I highly recommend doing some of those.''

''What about me?'' I choke. ''Actually, nevermind. I'm perfect, so it really doesn't matter what I do. I mean, look at me! The looks, the body, the Capitol would just die over me! And when they see me in the Arena, observing how well I do, they're gonna drown me in sponsors and basically carry me to that Victor's seat!''

''Um, Fidan—''

''It's Fitz.''

''Fitz, I mean, that's not how it works,'' Relmo claims. ''There's much more to it than you being 'perfect'. We're here to help you, not let you go out into the Arena and believe that just because you have a high regard for yourself means that others do, too. Come over here and we can ta—''

''No, I'm good! Honestly, you've got Sawyer to talk to and Mentor, so why don't you just stay with her? I don't need your mentoring, it's fine. I'll do good in that Arena all by myself, without help, since you two obviously care about Sawyer's survival more than mine.''

''That's not how it—'' Chantell tries to convince me otherwise, but I turn away. It's quiet for just a little bit, until she speaks up again. ''How stubborn...''

Maybe I've just made the biggest mistake of my life. I turned away from my Mentor, and now I'm going into these Games alone. Unless I gain allies, but still. There's going to be so much blood. And what am I gonna do at the Bloodbath, what if I really can't use the traps the way that I'm supposed to? What if people see through my plans and catch up to me in the Arena, how will I take care of myself?!

Twenty-three of us die, and that's a lot of bloodshed. The thought of all the thick, dark red liquid that's gonna slowly ooze out of many of our bodies in a week is scaring me already, making me feel quite nauseous. And the horrible murders, the mutts attacking, the chances of me surviving...

The thought of me being attacked – whether by a Career or another tribute or a mutt – freaks the shit out of me. Quicker and quicker with each passing thought, I become more and more stultified due to this thinking. I'm helpless, now.

The realization of the current situation that I'm truly in right now makes me cower back and sense a feeling of weakness boiling inside of me. The stress is too much to handle, and it leaves me destitute and unable to move. My thoughts are being filled and attacked with a horrible and monotonous feeling.

And so, I close my eyes, and drops of water roll down and stain my cheeks. I wipe them away, making sure that nobody saw, but I did it so many times to the point where my eyes became red and swollen. When I look around, keeping my composure, my vision becomes blurry.

It's difficult to see when your fragile emotions take over you and alter your vision.

* * *

 **Loralei Tenaris, 15, District Eight Female**

* * *

Switching the remote from my left hand to right hand, I press play and begin the Reaping Recaps.

Clarence sits back with that book of his clutched tightly against his chest, with Milliona sitting next to him. Jackson folds his arms over his chest, and sighs deeply when the District One tributes are shown. Adonis and Blush – the tributes' names are – both look confident in their Volunteering, but most Careers usually do.

''So what do you think of these two?'' Jackson asks me. ''Both of them had positive ways of Volunteering, with the excitement and their ability to look good – especially Blush – while speaking.''

''I guess.''

I sit quietly and don't give back any of the opinions that I have on the two tributes. So far, Jackson's been the only one to really say anything. ''Look at you now. At first you were all hard and vocal, but now you're being shy and quiet.'' Clarence says.

Shrugging, I ignore Clarence and focus on the District Two tributes. The girl is a mystery, the way she just walked up there calmly and only stated her name; while the boy, on the other hand, is a charmer, who probably already knows that he'll get sponsors. He's handsome, had a courageous way of Volunteering, and has the entire package, basically.

I'm guessing that most of the applause was for the boy, and as soon as the two of them enter the Justice Building, the hooting and hollering of applause abates. ''So Atlas is obviously gonna get the Careers a surplus amount of sponsors, if he joins them.''

''He will join them,'' I confirm. ''There's no way that he's not going to. A Career like him, what other options would he go to? Some outlier tributes, or better yet, go solo? No way, Atlas is gonna go with them because they're his best chance of survival, and whether or not he likes them, he'll be loyal to them, and they'll be loyal to him because of what he can get them with sponsors.''

''He can do a lot of things for you, too.'' Clarence speaks up.

''Oh, yeah? Like what?''

''He can kill you.''

''Why do you say that?''

''Because that's your fate. Down goes the annoying bitch who never shuts her mouth by the most popular Career so far! I can see it already.''

''Jokes on you, I don't believe in faith,'' I yawn. ''Anything can happen. Maybe I could kill Atlas, he could make a mistake that would be costly and give me a chance to end his life. Or maybe even you could kill Atlas, but I doubt you'd stand a chance against a Career.''

''Of course you'd say that. That's why you're gonna die, because you believe in this nonsense that you can change things.''

''I'm sorry, I didn't understand. Could you iterate on the excogitation?'' I say and then wink. Both Milliona and Jackson look at me in a weird way, and Clarence seems confused out of his mind. ''Well, I guess we now know who doesn't have a large vocabulary.''

Staring back at the screen, I watch the District Three tributes' reactions. The girl seems terrified, but when you think out outlier tributes, then it all comes to mind that that's not a surprising reaction. While the boy... him, he's different. He doesn't seem fazed by this at all, like he actually wants to be in the Games. But it's not in that psychotic way, it's more like he's obsessed with the people staring up at him or something.

District Four is more interesting, though, with the girl rushing up to the stage as she lunges forward to Volunteer. She doesn't look like she's excited, but more like there's something she wants to accomplish. And the boy Volunteers in the same way, almost, except he takes his time. The both of them have this strange connection, and it's kinda awkward, but they engage in small-talk so it looks like they're comfortable with one another.

''So the girl and the guy both made an impact already,'' I sigh. ''They began speaking like they knew each other. Does the Capitol like that, Careers communicating already and enjoying themselves?''

''What do you think, dumbass?''

Rolling my eyes, I chuckle to myself. Milliona and Jackson both tell me that I was correct, so it seems like the Careers are in a good spot this year. The charm that they leave off, the relationships, and the looks. What a lucky year, huh? Anyway, District Five was probably the weirdest District to watch. The girl who was Reaped stood in her same spot for about two minutes before realizing that she was called up, and began looking around and pointing to herself like a ditz. The boy looks like he was expecting it, so there wasn't much to go off of.

District Six was definitely a Reaping of emotions. Both tributes looked like they were about to crumble and fall to the floor. The boy's legs gave in, and the girl basically stumbled over herself while she was walking up. Though, I do have to hand it to them – both of them stood strong and tall at the end, with the girl taking the microphone and speaking encouraging words.

''I bet I could've come up with a better speech than her in that same amount of time,'' I scoff. ''I mean, she did good, but I think I could've done better. I'd like to meet her during our time in the Capitol and see how it'd go if we competed.''

''Seems like you're the competitive type?'' Jackson says.

''Well, of course!'' I smile.

''That's good,'' he drawls. ''The Games are a competition, so I can see you doing good. When the Bloodbath hits, with that competitive spirit of yours, you could rush straight in, grab a bag and a weapon, and get out of there. Just don't become over competitive. Your allies might not like that, if—''

''If she even has allies,'' Clarence bursts out. ''But I seriously doubt it. She's annoying and lame, nobody is gonna want to ally with her. And even if she's competitive, she won't get anywhere with it. That stupid way of thinking that she has is gonna end up with her running into the wrong person by trying to outrun everyone else and get killed. And I can't wait to see that happen.''

Abruptly getting up, I approach Clarence and stand right in front of him, catching the attention of Milliona and Jackson. Great, I just love the attention on me. Everyone's eyes locked on me, it's just the best feeling in the world. ''Keep talking that shit, it won't get you anywhere besides being hated by all the other tributes, and dead.''

''At least my death would be quick, unlike yours.''

''What makes you think I'd die slowly?''

''Because you're such a fake bitch, everyone's gonna wanna make sure your death is painful.'' He then holds his book out, scooting back as he gets away from both Milliona and I. Next to him is our Escort, who doesn't really speak much or communicate with us. He seems kinda shy – or maybe he dislikes us, but I'd never know. ''One second you're hard, the next you're shy, and then you go back to acting like you're the shit. Nobody likes that.''

''Can you two please stop talking, I want to watch the Reaping in peace and quiet, please...'' He whispers, shying away, basically sinking into his seat. I guess he's new at this.

Turning around, I spot the District Seven girl. She walks up to the stage properly, but the emotions are being held back. ''She doesn't look like she has a problem with this,'' Clarence whispers to himself. I shake my head. Maybe I'm just clairvoyant, because nobody else senses that she's holding everything back. Now, when the boy's name is called, he doesn't look like he can believe it. Fortunately for him, he composes himself and remains stony faced. Nice.

I slowly walk back, trying to find a spot on the couch to sit on and accidentally smash my fist into our Escort's plate of food. Looking down, I realize that my hand is bleeding. I elevate it up to my face and look around, with everyone else staring at me.

''D-Does that not hurt?'' My Escort asks. ''Y-You slammed your fist right into t-the razor sharp knife... It pierced your pinky finger, and was literally stuck inside of it until you moved your hand away.''

''No, it doesn't hurt.'' I turn back to the screen and see our Reaping. Nothing new, I know what happened. District Nine is up next, and they're just all emotions. The girl begins balling her eyes out, pushes a Peacekeeper away, and runs to the stage. The boy, though, he just begins yelling and begging for someone to do something with his body after he dies. I'm not sure, I didn't hear it all too well.

The District Ten tributes were just out of the ordinary. First off, the girl Volunteered, and the boy was excited. My guess is that they're both psychopaths.

I didn't really notice, but everyone continues to stare at me, like they're waiting for an explanation.

''Guess I should tell you guys why I don't feel pain, right?'' I choke. ''Well, you see, I was born without a pain gene. So things don't tend to really hurt me. This knife would be deleterious to anyone else, but to me, it's not very harmful. Nothing stings, burns, or hurts, so I guess that's a positive thing?''

''So I guess that's a positive thing,'' Clarence emulates. ''How is that a positive thing? That just makes things more scary, but whatever, that's your problem.''

''That's something that my Father's wife's son's older sister's friend would say.'' Quietness is all around, and the movements are still as the District Eleven Reaping finishes. Both tributes stand tall and strong like they have something to fight for, despite their emotions. The boy looks more consistent with his rather than the girl, and now District Twelve plays. ''Uh, my friend, duh?''

Cackling, I continue. ''Oh, it's fun to confuse you. But there's really nothing to fear. If you wanted to attack me, I wouldn't be able to feel it. So what exactly is there for me to be frightened of?''

''Whatever,'' Clarence scoffs, turning away from me. In the dim light, because the room is a bit dark with the lights turned off, I can see a little smirk on his face. Blinking my eyes, I make sure that they're not deceiving me, but it looks like they were, because he has a serious frown on his face at the moment.

The girl who's Reaped is nothing more than a mere twelve-year-old. On initial behalf of her being chosen, she just falls to the floor in a somewhat shock-like state. She probably didn't wanna believe it at first, but her reaction shows every bit of emotion that she's feeling. And the boy – also twelve – well, he took it kindly. He stayed stiff for a couple of seconds, and then began to walk to the stage with a child-like smile on his face.

Cute.

The Recaps finish, so Jackson closes the television. I was about to look for the remote to close it myself, but then I realized that I left it back where I sat. Sighing, I listen as Jackson and Milliona start talking to Clarence and leave me out of the chat. ''Hello? Excuse me? I'm here, too, y'know...''

They're so engaged in the conversation, besides Clarence. I can tell he's not because he's grimacing and staring at me from the corner of his eyes. The attention isn't on me, but I want it to be. Seriously, it's bothering me that I'm not getting the attention that I want from them, but I know how to get it, so it's fine, I suppose.

For ostentatious reasons, I quickly grab the razor sharp knife that was on our Escort's plate and lunge myself at Clarence, grab his shoulders roughly, press my knee up against that book of his, and place the knife against his throat, my palms turning ghostly white because of how hard I'm holding onto the hilt of the knife.

Clarence gasps, jumping back in fear, losing that restrained force of emotion that he was showing just a couple of minutes ago. I begin laughing incredibly hard, feeling tears forming in the corners of my eyes. Milliona lets out a stifled laugh, as does Jackson, and so does the Escort.

Clarence, however, doesn't find it so funny and sits there, trying to recompose himself after his sudden outburst of fear. He sits there and buries his face in that book of his, ignoring the rest of us. We all try to talk to him, try to get him to speak up, but he completely resents us all.

''Don't take it so seriously. Come on, you're so rancorous.'' I giggle.

* * *

 **Rhea Mandelle, 14, District Nine Female**

* * *

I begin to play with the woven bracelet that India gave me. It's one of the most beautiful pieces of fabric that I've ever owned, and it's even prettier in the dazzling light that shines from the ceiling of the high-powered train.

I miss India. When she visited me in the Justice Building, she began to cheer me up. She was so optimistic, telling me that I was going to make it back, despite my constant apprehension. She was filled with hope. I was ambivalent about whether to believe her or just turn away and ignore her words, but I couldn't help listen to her and gain a bit of hope.

But I miss her. I miss all of them – my parents, Timothy, and even Livia. India held a special place, though. Her embrace made me smile, get over being Reaped just a little bit. Her body was pressed against mine in just the perfect hug. It was warm and I felt like I was melting into her, all of the noise around us being blocked out. I lost track of where my body was, recognizing where hers began.

I was just safe and comfortable there, like I was in a nightmare that soon evolved into a perfect dream. Just a calm feeling with no worries and no fears; I felt safe, like I was at home. The hug was so tight, giving me the feeling that I wouldn't have been going to the Capitol. But I am.

My best friend and I are away from each other now, and I miss her so much.

''My darling Rhea. You should eat, sweetie,'' my Escort Fabian says. Grabbing a hold of my arm as he sits down next to me, he continues and says, ''Look at you. You're gonna need some fat if you want to survive.''

He stands up and sighs. ''I shall fill a plate up with food for you, seeing as you don't seem like you want to do it yourself. I will get you some steak, some mashed potatoes, some green beans,'' he chatters. ''You're gonna love this Capitol cuisine, darling. This food will fill you right up! Take a bit of lettuce as well, and why not add a bit of baked french fries? You're also gonna need a beverage, right?''

Fabian grabs me a large cup of lemonade and places the entire meal out in front of me. Just staring at all that food makes me feel like I've never had a decent meal in my life – and I was brought in by two men who showered me with meals and such. ''I-I... I don't—''

''Oh, don't by shy! Eat as much as you want. When you're done, go for the snacks and sweets that are plastered around the table.''

...He's quite generous for a Capitolite. As soon as I'm about to reach for the fork that's enveloped in a thin piece of paper, Fabian picks up a classic carving knife and stabs it in the center of the steak.

 _No!_

Everything around me changes immediately as I see the sharp knife pierce the coating of the steak. The room began to spiral, while the floor panels misaligned themselves in a zigzag motion as I stare down at the ground. My hands are trembling in fear. Trying to hold myself together, I desperately clutch my stomach to stop myself from retching.

This oh-so familiar pain starts to make my eyes gloss up, and I begin to think about the Hunger Games. My breathing hitches and I let loose, the tears running down my cold face and leaving wet marks in their path. Quickly, I turn into a blubbering mess. ''W-W... Wh-Wh-Why..?''

''Rhea? Sweetie, are you okay?'' Fabian pressures me, his hand resting on my shoulder.

''I-I'm f-f-fine.'' I dismiss.

''Are you sure?'' He asks again. ''Here, take the food, it'll cheer you up.'' He hands me the plate and my tears evaporate, but I continue to sniffle. Fabian excuses himself as he leaves the area that I'm in to go check up on something else.

As Fabian leaves, Lilac enters. There's a hesitant smile appearing on her face, but she looks like she's ready to begin talking to me. ''How are you?''

''I'm alright. W-What a-about you?''

''I'm doing well, it's just another year to mentor more tributes for me.'' So she's my Mentor. It makes me smile on the inside, knowing that she chose me. ''But are you certain that you're okay? It doesn't look that way with all those tear stains on your face.''

''No, no, I'm fine,'' I gain composure over my feelings. ''I promise that I'm okay.''

''Well, okay, if you say so,'' she smiles. ''Let's talk, alright. First thing's first, I want to discuss strategy with you. Now, I'm going to play a couple of past Games to get you to understand the flow of the Games and how they work. You've probably witnessed a couple of them, but I don't think you've seen some important pieces on past Games.''

My heart begins to beat quicker than ever, and my body quickly overheats. ''Do we... do we have to do this now? I don't—''

''I know that you don't want to do this, but please just comply,'' Lilac begs. She doesn't give me time to respond when she grabs a couple of disks and a remote. She walks over to the DVR and puts a disk in. When the screen begins to flicker, a title that says 'The Eighty-Fourth Annual Hunger Games' appears.

Even though watching this might be necessary, I am not amenable to the idea of seeing death. Not again. ''Please, can we not watch this, it's useless!'' I complain. ''I don't wanna watch this. There's no point! How is watching these former Games going to help me? I don't see a reason to do this, can we please, _please_ , not do this right now?''

 _Can we not do this ever?_

''You don't understand,'' Lilac huffs. ''Watching them _will_ help you. You have no clue what you're getting yourself into, and watching the strategy of other tributes who won their Games might help us devise a plan for you.''

''No!'' I scream, feeling the tears reform. There's no holding back this time, and the tears just burst out without any bit of pause. ''Nothing's going to help me! Your mentoring isn't gonna help, watching these past Games isn't gonna help, nothing is! I'm a goner, don't you see that! I can't do anything, there's no way I'd be able to survive in that godforsaken Arena!''

''Why are you so insecure?'' She questions me. ''You've done nothing yet! I don't understand why you're tearing up, either! I just pressed play, and the video hasn't even started. And now you're giving up already. How do you plan on making it far?''

''That's the thing, I won't make it far!'' I cry. ''I would never make it far, not even in another life, can't you see that?''

''Rhea...'' A hint of sympathy is placed on Lilac's tone.

''Why do I have to do any of this? I don't wanna go into the Hunger Games, I don't wanna eat this food that Fabian placed out for me, I don't wanna go to the Capitol, I don't wanna kill, I don't wanna die, I don't wanna watch these stupid Recaps; I don't wanna be mentored, I don't wanna talk to anyone! I want to go back home! Why can't I go back home? Out of all people, why am I the one here? It's not fair, it's not fair at all!''

''Stop complaining!'' Lilac demands. ''Do you really want to go back home to District Nine?'' I nod my head. ''Then stop crying all the time! Rhea, you're acting like a crybaby! Every little thing sets you off, and you don't want to discuss anything. How are you going to make it back home if you won't cooperate with me?!''

Again, my eyes become moist, but I sigh deeply and blink away the tears. ''...Okay. So you want—''

The screams of children ring around the room, and as I turn around, my eyes glue themselves to the television screen. There's a boy who tackles another boy, a Four on the attacker's shoulder, and a Seven on the boy who's scrambling on the ground, trying to get free. The Four boy holds up a spear that glazes in the sunlight, shimmering as madness happens all around.

With struggling legs, the Seven boy knees the other boy in the groin and tries to take advantage by escaping. The Four boy bounces back up in a quick manner, and sprints after the Seven boy. There's pain written all over his face, but it's satisfying pain once he impales the Seven boy through the back with his spear, blood dripping off of the spearhead.

Victory is written all over the face of the Four boy, but this is only the Bloodbath. He flashes a cocky grin as he turns around to see the girl from Two, blonde haired and blue eyed, engaging in a ferocious battle against the Twelve boy. He sends a fist flying straight into her jaw, and then headbutts her in the nose, causing her to leak out and fall to the floor.

There's no hesitation in his body, and a tear flashes in his eye, just as he brings down a machete and stabs her in the chest. After doing so, he quickly turns to run away, only to be bumped into the District One boy, who wastes no time grabbing him by the string of hair on his head, and slitting his throat in a slick manner, drawing a thin line of blood across his neck, and hollering as he yells out, ''Whoo!'' to show his dominance.

Standing up, my mouth begins to quiver rapidly. ''Rhea...'' Lilac goes to grab my hand, but I slip away without sparing a second glance at her. Tears stream down my face again – making this the fourth time I've cried in less than an hour – and blur my vision. With stumbling feet, I accidentally trip over myself and don't catch my balance in time before I've slammed into a cabinet that holds glass artifacts in it.

The artifacts fall to the floor in slow motion, and crack as soon as they hit the ground. At least five pieces of beautiful artwork have been broken because of how clumsy I am. ''I give up!'' I shout. ''I can't do this anymore, I can't!''

''Yes you can!''

''No... I appreciate your assiduous attempt at trying to help me understand this, but this is just too much for me. All the death, the drama, I can't do this, and I'll never be able to. I'm not changing my opinion!''

''Stop being so stubborn! You keep complaining about all of this, yet you say that you want to go back home. How the hell is that possible if you don't try? Just _try!_ Is that so hard to ask of? For you to just try and get through this?!''

''I didn't want to wake up this morning, you know,'' I sniffle. ''Because I knew it was Reaping Day, and nothing good ever comes from the Reaping... I was having a much better time asleep, trust me. And that's sad. It's like a reverse nightmare for me – you know how when you wake up from a nightmare, you're relived? Well, I woke up into a nightmare.''

The atmosphere is so depressing right now, but Lilac has words of encouragement, apparently. ''No, you're not giving up.''

''You can't mentor me properly, Lilac! Get over it.''

''Bet your ass I can.''

''No, you can't. I can't do it. I have no faith in myself, and nobody else does, either! Just stop!''

''There's so much more to you!'' Lilac breathes. She sits there, continuing to look at me. ''Victors are people who usually have something to hold on to. Don't you have things that you want to hold on to, Rhea? Like, maybe family, or friends?''

Looking down at the bracelet, I sigh in defeat. ''What are you trying to say?''

''I'm trying to say that I see so much more in you, things that you can't see.'' She gets up and grabs the plate of food that Fabian put down for me, and begins eating it herself. She chews and swallows, then recognizes that I'm still waiting for her to finish what she has to say. ''And I can help you realize it. Just let me do my job and work with you. You can do this, you're worth it.''

''So now I'm worth it?'' I growl.

''Don't be so uptight,'' she warns. ''You've always been worth it. I chose you for a reason. I saw something in this small fourteen-year-old girl that Demetri didn't see. If you weren't worth it, I wouldn't be wasting my time speaking to you right now. Please. Just work with me.''

My cheeks warm up and I smile, nodding my head as I come to a conclusion. Maybe she's right. After all, it could be worse. There are people out there dying everyday with infectious diseases, some starving, and some being brutally attacked.

But is there really anything that's worse than the Hunger Games?

* * *

 **A/N: Ayeee! So all of the tributes have been introduced, finally. Every POV since the beginning of this story was fun to write, and I'm glad it didn't take too long to explore all of these tributes. Not gonna lie, a couple of them were tricky and I felt like I might've screwed up or something, but y'all have always been there to reassure me and tell me that I did them right, or that you thought you got a good feel on the tribute, so thank you for that ^^ And of course, there are some things you don't know about these tributes like a bit extra of their personality, and I think I've only explored like, two of their backstories so far? So yeah, we'll get to that sooner or later, whenever the right time occurs.**

 **I've decided that some chapters will be mixed together. Like, next chapter will be them arriving to the Capitol, speaking with their Stylists, getting dressed and stuff, and then the Chariot Rides will happen. But Training Days will all be three separate chapters, so the Games will be arriving quicker. Not sure what I'm going to do with the Games. I'm stuck between doing things like Part One and Part Two of the days, but I think I'll stick to just doing full days with each chapter that goes on. The story will be shorter, but more deaths will come in a quicker way, I guess. So instead of doing like, two chapters with no deaths, it'll be one chapter instead and stuff. I don't know, lemme know what you guys wanna see.**

 **That's another thing. I wanna know what you guys wanna see, and not just write random things down. I've got ideas for this story and such, yeah, but I wouldn't mind reading your opinions. Obviously I'm not going to do everything that the readers want, but it's nice to get a feel of how I can make the story more enjoyable for all of you. And like always, let me know if I screwed your tribute up in this chapter or whatever. Like before, I'm always a bit iffy after writing every POV, so be straight up honest with me. Anyway, onto the questions.**

* * *

 **Thoughts on each tribute?**

 **Favorite tribute/POV?**

 **Least favorite tribute/POV?**

 **Favorite tribute of the story, besides your own?**

 **Least favorite of this story so far?**

 **Predictions for any tributes so far? Like, potential alliances and such. Whatever you feel.**

* * *

 **And lastly, there's a poll on my profile. I'll update polls every, I dunno, important chapter or so. Like during Launch or whatever, I'll put one up like, ''Who do you want to die in the Bloodbath?'' But it'll just be to see opinions, not really gonna write that chapter based off who everyone wants to die. Yeah, but this one is just for your favorite tributes, so. Anyway, that's all for now. See y'all next chapter, which I'll try to get up pretty quick. And I hope you all have a wonderful day/night/evening/whatever time it is for you right now. Bye! ^-^**


	9. Put On A Show

**Chariot Rides:**

* * *

 **Cassia Abbey, District Five  
**

* * *

With screeching tires, our train comes to a stop. ''We're here!'' Davina sings, a beaming smile on her face. The smile on her face soon disappears, though, when she says, ''Someone go fetch Beckett.''

''It's Beckham.'' I correct, tilting my head as I smile. She scoffs – how rude of her – but I turn the other cheek and skip my way over to his room. Once I reach the hallway that divides both of our rooms, I turn to his and begin pounding on the wooden door. ''Beckham, wake up! We're in the Capitol!''

It takes him no time to open the door, and he looks completely worn out. ''I wasn't sleeping.'' I look at him, shaking my head. He obviously was sleeping. He was probably having a nightmare, too, because he's drenched in sweat, his hair is all disheveled, and the bags under his eyes are huge.

''Yes you were.'' He shakes his head. ''If you weren't sleeping, then why were you in your room with the door locked, huh? People who do that are always sleeping. Plus, you look tired, so you can't deny it.''

''You're so ignorant,'' he comments. ''People don't have to be sleeping to lock their doors. Maybe they just wanted to be alone and clear their mind of things. Going to your room doesn't mean you're _always_ sleeping.''

''But you said that you were... Wait, did you? I thought... Wait, you said that you were gonna go nap when Kelsey and Jonas were talking to me!''

''Kelsin and Jonah,'' he corrects, those pearly white teeth of his still shining. ''Anyway, we should go. Our Mentors are probably waiting on us.''

Just as he's about to leave, I place my hand on his chest and wink at him. ''Okay, but remember, you're supposed to show me how to brush my teeth like you do.'' After doing that, I blow a kiss and walk forward, making sure to sway my hips to attract his attention.

When we get to the living room, both Jonah and Kelsin are gone, and Davina stands there, pursing her lips as she taps her cheek. With her, there two Peacekeepers who tell us to get out of the train. Obeying their rules, Beck goes first and I follow after, turning my head left and right to see what's going on.

As soon as we get off, we're put into this line. From what I can tell, it's in District order. In front of us are the District Four girl and boy – and I have to say, from the back, that Four boy looks mighty fine. Wonder what the front looks like. And behind us, District Six, the girl is super pretty, but the boy is a tall and pale child with fabulous hair. His looks aren't up to standards, but his hair sure is. Wow.

Looking down at my nails, admiring how beautiful they are, I start to whisper to myself but I can barely hear my own words due to the booming of the crowd. There's a cacophony of applause and cheering, whooping and hollering, clapping and stamping of feet as the tributes make their way in front of Capitolites in person for the first time.

All around, I spot the type of fashion that these people are into. Davina looked pretty nice, but everyone else here... They're _hideous._ There's a woman who has zigzag lines across her perfectly straight hair, and they're not even black and white lines, either – they're blue and yellow! And her face is drenched with polished stars, with her eyebrows completely shaved off. Her lipstick has a terrible look of blood red mixed with sunlight yellow. And she has a tattoo of a thunderbolt on her _forehead._

What the hell?! Scoffing as I continue to walk, I ignore the rest of our surroundings until the spontaneous outpouring of emotion dissipates.

''Tributes,'' a voice calls out. At the front of the line of tributes, a strong woman stands – she's probably the administrator or something. ''My name is Eliora Avonté, and I will be administering all of you. If you would, please listen to the Peacekeepers who are guiding you. You will be arriving to your appointed sections shortly, where your Stylists will prepare you for the Chariot Ride that will be commencing soon. If there are any questions, please don't hesitate to ask.''

''Yes, exactly what is this Chariot Ride thing?'' I ask, raising up my hand.

''It's self-explanatory, you idiot,'' a harsh voice from the back says. When I turn around, I see a little boy, probably only around fourteen, staring at me with descending eyebrows, like he's mad at me or something. Tributes around begin laughing at his snarky comment and start whispering to one another about what he just said to me.

I glare at the boy, and he returns the glare right back. ''Was that an insult?''

''What do you think?''

I take a step forward, but I'm quickly stopped when Beck grabs my hand and tells me it's not worth it. But honestly, I don't care if it's worth it or not. I'm not letting some stupid little boy make fun of me like that. Insults are something I take seriously, and I really don't appreciate being made fun of. ''Watch your back, kid.'' I warn, finding a new grudge to hold.

''Now, since that's over with, you shall follow the Peacekeepers to the Remake Center, where you will be worked with and designed to look perfect. We'll all see you soon, tributes.''

Davina seems to appear from thin air, tapping on my shoulder when I'm not focused on her. ''Come on, you two,'' she instructs. We begin separating from the rest of the tributes, everyone going a different way. All the way to the front of the Remake Center, there's a giant number One, and the District One tributes have already arrived to their section.

Our walk, however, is long and filled with nothing but Davina constantly continuing her speech about how _fascinating_ the Capitol is. I'm bored out of my mind until we come to a clear opening where the noise reoccurs. All around the District Five tube, Capitolites – hideous ones, in fact – all start pacing at our motion.

Some of them are yelling out our names, some go far as to saying the types of things they'd love to do to us. ''These people are all here for _you!_ '' Davina cheers. ''Look at it,'' she projects a scenery with her hand. ''All of them, loving and enjoying the both of you! How amazing is their presence? I'd suggest doing something to make yourself memorable!''

Wait... She said make myself memorable. And in the Capitol, making yourself memorable means making the Capitolites like you. And when the Capitolites like you, you're in the hot seat to get sponsors, and it boosts your popularity up majorly. And that could benefit me!

Immediately, it's like something of a duo. Beck starts flashing that shiny grin of his, which sways and woos the women all around. They begin fainting over him, over dramatically acting as if they've just been knocked out because of how perfect he is. While I focus my attention on all the males, blowing kisses and waving as they continue to run.

Some of them begin to trip over each other, and I giggle. Davina turns around to see what the both of us are doing to get the crowd this ecstatic, and once she sees, she smiles. ''Hey!'' She whispers. ''Hold hands, you two!'' Quickly, a grimace is formed on my face. No way. ''I know, it's icky Beckett, but don't mind it. It'll only be for about a minute, you can do this.''

''Um, no,'' I deny with sass. ''I want it my way, and my way is that we both do this as a team, okay. and that means I do my thing and he does his. I'll continue to smile and blow kisses and wave at these beautiful people—''

''Cassia, lift up your shirt!'' A teenage Capitolite boy says. _Oh, teenage boy hormones._ My mind clarifies to me. I bring both of my hands up to my mouth to hide my giggle, and then do as the boy requests. From what I can tell, the boy who's literally drooling at the moment, with a blue emblem on his right eye and silver hair with blue highlights, is the one who's mostly interested in this. Quickly, I slip up my fabulous shirt and expose my bra, start shaking a little bit, and bring my shirt down in a slow, seductive way.

His reaction is priceless. Like a teenage boy, he begins to blush and looks like he's wanting more, but I bring my index finger up and wag. His hands are up in the air, like he's trying to grope me or something. But these boys should know by now: they can look but they can't touch.

''—and like I was saying, I can do it my way and Beck can do it his. He'll just keep flashing that grin of his, okay? But just look at all the attention I'm getting compared to him. I mean, I'm fabulous. Not only is my outfit so much better than his, because mommy and daddy are rich and can afford this shit for me, but I'm also superior.'' Davina doesn't bother to respond, looking confused because she didn't catch exactly what I said due to how rapid I was speaking.

Beck doesn't seem to have heard a single thing, either, or maybe he's just ignoring me. ''Beck!'' I scream, catching his attention. I slide in front of him, looking to take the scarce amount of supporters that he has compared to me away from him. ''Move!'' I bump my back into him, bending over just to add a little bit more force, but it turns into a sexual act, which makes the crowd cheer even louder. ''You're in the way, get out of the picture so I can make these people love me!''

There's a kind smile on his face, and as if what I said was a policy, he obeys it and gets away from me. I know that I'm going to be remembered now. Hell, even the signs that are held up tell me that this crowd is interested in me. Just look at them!

 _''District Five!''_ One says. _''Cassia, Cassia, her looks put me in sleep apnea!''_ There are even some for Beck. _''Beckett for the win!''_ Actually, there's a lot for the both of us. _''Go Beckett! Go Cassia!''_

Beck, being as cheerful as he is, jumps up to the glass frame that all of the Capitolites are put behind, and smacks his hand against the glass to high-five them, hyping up the crowd even more.

What I'm seeing before my eyes is truly amazing. They love us. They really, really love us.

But more importantly – they love me.

* * *

 **Atlas Aureliano, District Two  
**

* * *

''Go ahead, Atlas,'' Dolise smiles at me. Just as I walk past her, giving her a bright smile, she stops me as she grabs my hand. She looks back, making sure that Sigrid is still with her as well. ''And remember, you two: no matter what goes on in there, you are not in the right place to disagree, or argue, with your Stylists. Whatever they say goes, understand that?''

''Yeah,'' Sigrid answers for the both of us.

''Good. Now enter!'' Dolise exclaims as she opens my door first. ''You two are going to look even more adorable with whatever they have planned for you!''

Gently getting nudged forward, I enter the room and the door shuts behind me. It was quite abrupt, without letting me glimpse back at my District Partner and Mentor one last time before meeting up with my Stylists. Turning around, I face them all and do my best to make a great first impression.

''Hello!'' I say excitedly, making them all smile. ''My name's Atlas, and it's nice to meet all of you.'' One by one, I approach all three of the fruity colored people and shake each of their hands, making sure that my grip is firm.

''Oh, we know who you are,'' one of the females say, biting down on her lip. I let out a chuckle, smiling at her. ''I'm Levina, that's Denell, and this is Cordine.''

Making a mental note on their differences, I spot that Levina is the more vocal and outgoing one, Denell is the fit boy with green hair, and Cordine is the bedazzled woman with gold studded piercings above her eyebrows. Interesting.

''How are you guys today?'' I ask, wanting to engage in a conversation with them.

''Look at the boy!'' Cordine says, her normal-colored strawberry blonde hair making her look like the only regular one around here. She looks my way and blinks. ''Not only is he just as attractive in person, but he's also got that friendly personality that he showed during his Reaping.''

''I think we'll enjoy working with him,'' Levina adds. The two of them completely ignored my question and knocked it out of the way, and speak about my looks and personality instead as Denell stands with his arms flexed, but it doesn't look like he's doing it on purpose.

''We're great,'' Denell answers for all three of them. ''When we heard that you were the tribute we were assigned to, these two lost their minds and began running around like buffoons because of how much they were hoping to get to work on you – in fact, every team of Stylists were hoping to get you. Somehow, we were the lucky ones.''

''Oh, really?'' I ask, looking at Cordine and Levina. Both of them look extremely young, maybe around their early twenties. ''Well, I'm so satisfied that I got this amazing group of Stylists. All of you are fun and easy to talk to, and I know we'll be great friends for sure.''

''Ooh, he makes me melt!'' Levina starts using her hand as a fan to cool herself down. I can't help but look at her with lidded eyes and flirtatiously purr.

''Alright, now I'm _dying_ to get to work!'' Cordine admits. ''Atlas, strip your clothes off for us, sweetie!''

Quickly, my smile disappears and vanishes like the wind. ''Wait, what? Are you guys joking?''

All three of them look dead serious, so I mouth to myself. ''No, we are not joking!'' Levina answers my question. ''When we work with tributes, we like to take our jobs seriously and commit to making them look stunning. And in order to do that, to ensure that the Capitol loves you, like they already don't, we're going to need you to get naked.''

Chuckling, a ton of thoughts begin running through my mind right now. _You've got to be kidding me,_ one thought reaches my brain before the rest. In this situation, if I wasn't in the Capitol, I don't know what I'd do. How are the other tributes reacting to this? How is Sigrid reacting to this?

I'm about to retort sarcastically at Levina until my conscience stops me. _Remember what Dolise said? You are not in the right place to disagree and argue with your Stylists. Just listen to them and do as they ask._

''...Alright,'' I respond. Slowly, I grab the neck of my shirt and swiftly take it off, exposing my upper body. Levina blushes in a deep shade of red as she turns to Cordine and starts jumping. I remove my shoes and socks, then begin to unbuckle the belt that's strapped around my shorts. Slowly, I slide those off and stand straight with nothing but my boxers on.

Hesitantly, I stutter my arms forward to slide those off as well, but it's like something possesses me and makes me throw them off. So now I stand in front of my stylists naked, baring it all. ''Is that good enough for you guys?'' I flash a smile.

''Perfect, that will do just great!'' Cordine hops forward, turning around to giggle like I can't see her. ''You're doing amazing so far! Now just stand there so that we can see what we have to work with.''

''Trust me, there's a lot to work with,'' I tease.

''There really is,'' Levina giggles. Denell stands there, shaking his head as he circles around me and stares at everything I have to offer.

''We can make due of his eyebrows,'' Denell stares me in the eyes. ''And his skin, it could be a little bit more tan and smooth for the citizens to take view of. Also, his arm and leg hair should definitely be removed, and some more hair around _there_ as well.''

I would appreciate if he didn't make gestures to my oh-so-obvious area that he's talking about. ''What about his hair?'' Levina asks. ''I think that we could make it more attractive. Maybe slick it back and add a bit of gel to it.''

''Yes, I was thinking the same thing,'' Denell says. ''It also wouldn't hurt if we gave him a manicure and made those rough hands more smooth and glossy. But right now, I think we have exactly what we're looking for. Let's get to work, Team.''

Cordine brings out this tray that's filled with all types of utensils that I assume is for my body. There are tweezers, razors, lotions, creams, all types of things. ''Follow us, and lie down on that bed right there for us, please.''

''Did you save this special seat for me?'' I playfully ask.

''Who else would it be for?'' Cordine flirts. I lie down on the bed with my back, and they begin working without me even noticing. I thought that they were still preparing utensils to find for me, but I quickly realized that I was wrong when a wax paper was attached to my leg and pulled off within seconds.

I grimace, but hold myself together. This hurts, but I'm used to pain because I have to be. I didn't enter the Academy for no reason. This is nothing compared to what I'm likely going to go through in the Arena. ''I'm sorry about that,'' Levina apologizes. ''We know that it hurts, but we promise that it'll be over soon.''

She takes out a towel that's drenched in cold water and rubs it around the area of my leg that's stinging. My focus is on the towel, and so Cordine sneaks in another wax paper and rips even more hair off. I guess that they can see the pain in my face because they're all staring at me with apologetic looks.

''You know, the way you girls pull the wax off makes it look like you're trouble,'' I tease. ''Do you have any crimes planned for the night, or can we hang out?''

''Oh, Atlas, you don't make this job easy.''

''Do I make it fun?''

''Of course you do,'' Cordine says, taking the bottle of lotion that she grabbed and squeezing the substance out into the palm of her hand. She rubs it together between both of her hands and begins patting down both my left and right legs, smoothening out the burning, shaven areas of ripped hair.

Soon, both of my legs begin to feel so creamy and slippery. ''Can I move my hands to feel my legs, or is that not allowed?''

Levina looks at her partners and ponders over it. ''Well... We don't usually let tributes move while we work, but we'll make this exception for you.'' I nod my head after thanking her, and start to feel my soft skin. The way that all three of them are working together continues to enthrall me.

Denell shoves a comb into the top of my hair and pulls it back, basically scratching it off my head. I wince, resisting the urge to spring my hands upward to block the comb from entering again. He now takes out a pick and tries to use it on my hair, but he seems lost, like my hair is a jungle or something.

''Atlas, your hair...'' He says. ''With all of the spikes, I'm not exactly sure what to do here. We could gel it back, but it wouldn't look as good as I envisioned it to be.''

''So what are you saying?''

''I'm saying,'' he pulls the comb again, making me wince even more. ''That maybe we might have to get rid of the spikes. Maybe instead, we can— ''

''No! Don't remove the spikes, those are a great feature to his hair. Instead, shave the corners of his hair to a thin surface, and gel it,'' Levina appoints. ''Removing the spikes would be a vain attempt of making him look even more attractive. We're supposed to make him look presentable for the Capitol, not ruin him.''

Denell nods his head and quickly gets to work, using a razor to shave near my temples. While he's doing that, Cordine is giving me a foot manicure. She scrubs the soles of my feet with this rough sponge-like brush and puts some sparkling clear nail polish, which I'm not too fond of, on my finger nails. Levina continues with the wax, removing all of my arm hair, then moves on to do my armpit hair.

When they've all finished with the front of my body, they instruct me to turn around and lie down with my front facing the ground. All I can feel is the quick removal of wax from my legs and back as they continue to help cool down the pain. Slapping lotion on my body, they scrub and work incredibly hard.

Levina now switches positions with Denell and takes over my hair, applying a surplus amount of moisturizer. She lets it dry, and soon after, she begins combing it. To my surprise, it doesn't hurt as much, and she starts patting it to the right. As soon as she's finished, she takes out a blow dryer and freshens me up.

They all get on their knees and face me, all of them with tweezers in their hands. All of the minimal hair above my lips, they remove those. All of the small hairs that stick out of my chin, they remove those as well. And after everything is over, they pat me down with even more lotion and spray my entire body with a strong-scented cologne.

''All done!'' All three of them help me up, and Cordine goes to fetch a towel for me. She comes back soon enough and throws a blue one with vertical yellow lines on it at me. Denell circles me again, and I decide not to do anything because he might be looking for something else to fix up. Instead, he slaps me as hard as he can on the back of my neck.

The stinging feeling is still there, and as I duck my head, his eyes widen and he asks, ''Sorry, are you okay?''

''Yes, I'm totally fine,'' I say sarcastically. ''You just hit me in the back of the neck as hard as you could, and it was _after_ you just ripped out all of my hair! It obviously didn't burn!'' He steps back a little, catching the sarcastic tone in my voice, but I quickly regress and return to being humble and kind to them. ''Sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm fine. Thank you all for making me look appealing. Even through the pain, it was worth it because I got to communicate with you guys.''

''Atlas, you are just the sweetest thing!'' Cordine squeals. ''But no, we have to thank you for this! We got to interact with you, and we met our favorite tribute of these Games! Just go out there and show the crowd how amazing you are. Fight for that favorite spot!''

''He won't even need to contend for that favorite spot, the Capitol already loves him. Imagine their reactions when they see him now! Do you know how much they're gonna adore him?!'' Levina inquires. ''I have to give him props, though. You've been one of the most accommodating tributes we've ever received, and the way you held yourself together, even with all of the pain; we have to commend you for that.''

Cordine and Levina both walk towards me, both of them standing on a different side of me – Cordine on the left, and Levina on the right. ''So...''

''Are you going to put your towel on, or are you just going to let the both of them swoon over you?'' Denell asks. ''Anyway, I'm going to get Maura. She's gonna want to see you soon.''

Swoon over me? And who's Maura? But more important, swoon..? But why? I look down. ''Oh...'' A smile forces its way upon my lips, and I throw my hands around both Levina and Cordine's shoulders, bringing them closer to me. I can feel their cheeks burning with a warm, flush shade of red.

''Guess I should cover myself up, huh?'' I playfully poke both Levina and Cordine's hair. ''You know, I just realized, but I think the both of you would look great with green mohawks. I mean, that's just my preference, but two women as beautiful as yourselves could work with anything.''

They both blush and turn around, for the umpteenth time today, and start whispering again.

But seriously, I should probably wrap that towel around myself. The AC in here is freezing cold, and I heard that being in cold air without clothing makes you shrink.

* * *

 **Emil Robins, District Three  
**

* * *

''That's it, you're done!'' Relieda laughs. ''You look absolutely precious in your outfit! Spin around for me, honey. Show it off!''

 _This is honestly so ridiculous._ I smile at Relieda and brandish my body. She runs up to me and wraps her arms around my outfit. What I'm wearing right now is literally an atom. Well, maybe not entirely. It's like a tight suit, but with blue and red balls that are swiveling around me.

''Come, come!'' She exclaims. ''Time to get you out there with your District Partner!'' The bottom half of my outfit is all blue, and the top half is red. In the middle of my outfit is a silver ring-like object, I would say. It's not exactly that bad – I quite actually like it – but it's just so tight against my skin!

It's irritating. The circumference of this outfit is way too small. I don't know if they did this on purpose or not, but it would've been better if this wasn't the situation. I mean, they did measure my body, right? So they should've at least made it comfortable to be in. My Head Stylist grabs my hand and begins walking with me, dragging me back to the area that we were in before we all entered the Remake Center.

My gaze locks on the balls, and it really intrigues me on how these Capitolites were able to make them move on their own. It's kinda like a magnetic field, except they don't attract to my body. They attract to each other, and that's why they're stuck in a never-ending chase. I bring my left hand down and grab one of the balls, measure it in my hand, and ponder over what I could do with it.

''Emil, don't touch that!'' Relieda smacks my hand away. She comes to a stop, and so do I, the sound of animals neighing manifesting itself in the room. I peer up, and all the commotion is conspicuous when I recognize that all the other tributes are dressed up in different outfits. Everyone is so noisy and boisterous, some tributes speaking to their Mentors and Stylists, and other tributes making friends already.

I spot the Careers, and the District Four tributes represent their District incredibly well. ''They look amazing...'' I mutter to myself. The girl is dressed as a mermaid – right now, she's picking and scratching at her green bra. She's wearing a skirt that matches the bra, but it's blue instead. And her entire outfit just looks perfect for her District, because there are seashells and scales that are present, and her hair is all curled up.

And her partner, he's wearing a pirate outfit. It's kinda stereotypical, but it's nice. He even has a little sword hooked in his belt buckle, and a fake little parrot on his shoulder. Him and his partner are in a deep conversation, and she looks incredibly pissed, still itching at her outfit. Approaching the two of them are the tributes from Two, from what I can tell; the girl is dressed as a type of warrior female, with a sword as well, and a nice ass cape flowing behind her.

She's got a viking helmet on, and has a lot of skin being shown as her outfit is all ripped up, and exposes literally all of her legs and stomach. The only parts that are covered up are really her chest and right below her waste. But she has some really nice high-knee shoes on, so yeah. And her District Partner is dressed up as a royal king – he has a red velvet cape flowing swiftly behind him and everything else that you would suspect a king of wearing. Hell, the jewels on his outfit really sparkle in the sunlight and make him shine, too.

''Emil!'' Relieda snaps. I turn and stare straight into her eyes, my eyebrows raised. ''Did you hear a single thing that I said?''

I want to reply but I'm more focused on how I can get these Careers to notice me. Ignoring her, I quickly grab one of the electrons and start shuffling it around with my middle and index fingers. ''What did I tell you?'' Relieda grabs my hand. ''Stop playing with the electrons! Now, did you get anything that I said?''

''Tributes!'' The same lady from before yells out. ''You will have only a few more minutes until the Chariot Ride will begin. Make sure to prepare yourselves before boarding your chariots, and if you fail to comply with our regulations, there will be severe consequences.''

Staring around, I catch a glimpse of the District One girl running, and— ''Holy shit, is she naked?!'' I take a closer look, and it looks like the District One girl is showing it all this year. She walks over towards the rest of the Careers, although her District Partner is nowhere to be found. But then I take a closer look as I begin walking forward, and I realize that she's only wearing a a nude illusion bodysuit. There are diamonds, pearls, and sapphire jewels covering her intimate parts, but it still looks nice.

Especially in the way that it makes her body shine and gloss up like that. It looks like someone just dumped an entire bottle of oil on her. She looks so slippery but gorgeous. Well, we know who the Capitol is going to love now. She has the looks, even with her hair being incredibly messy like that, and basically appearing naked in front of a large audience as well... She's gonna get everything.

''Listen.'' I finally turn around and place a hand on my hip, but I fiddle with my fingers behind my back so that I can grab a hold onto one of the electrons. ''What's going to happen out there is that every tribute, including you and your District Partner, will ride in those chariots that are dragged by highly trained horses. The City Circle is where you all will be going, and you'll stop in the heart of the Capitol. The President will announce a speech, and all of you will be brought right back here.''

''Is that all?'' I ask.

''No,'' she claims. ''There are sponsors out there. _Lots and lots of sponsors._ People out there that are willing to spend money on you to ensure that you survive in the Arena, and even make it out, if you make a positive impression.'' Sponsors... ''Attract them to you, do anything that it takes to get them to stare at you and want to support you in the Arena. You see those Careers over there?'' I turn around to look at them all again, and the girls are all disputing or something. _Already?_ ''They're going to get sponsors regardless. You just try to outshine them.''

Moving my head back and forth, I notice that everyone is all caught up in their own conversations. Nobody is staring at me or even paying a bit of attention to me. And I want that attention, even if it's just a second of their time to make them look my way. I don't care how I get it, I just want it.

''Don't mess this up, please,'' Cathodette begs me as she stops right in front of me, looking me straight in the eyes. _Oh, I won't._ Defying Relieda's orders, I place the electron that I grabbed a hold of in front of me and begin working. There are openings and ways through it, so this isn't too hard to get it to malfunction. Like I said, I don't care how the attention comes as long as I get it. If I can get this to explode, then it'll all be—

A loud _bang_ emits, and the sound bounces off of the garage walls. Cathodette screams, and I'm quickly pushed back, but I catch a hold of my balance. The electron that I was just messing around with starts shooting out sparkling bolts, and they're traveling everywhere.

The tributes around all start staring at me. _Yes._ Relieda runs towards me, grabs the electron out of my hand, and chucks it across the room. With no care for the other tributes, she quickly grabs my shoulders and questions my motives. ''Are you out of your mind?! I told you not to mess with that!'' She screams at me again. ''How many times do I have to tell you to not mess around with your outfit?!''

The entire room is quiet, except for her yelling at me, and I swear if it stayed this way, you could hear the beating of my heart. ''Uh, I'm sorry, I was just toying with the little blue thingy. I thought you said that I could play with it,'' I make up an excuse. Right now, I'm trying so hard not to grin, and it's honestly so difficult to hold one back.

''Emil, I specifically told you not to play with the electrons at least three times! Can you listen to me for once? Stop causing all of this unnecessary trouble. It's just a pain, child!''

Tilting my head, I ask, ''Huh?'' Relieda looks like she's completely over me and decides to just walk away. In the corner of my eye, I notice a tall blonde male staring at me, an amused smirk on his face. From what I can tell, he's the District One girl's ally – but he's still not joining the other Careers in a conversation... and the boy from Ten tries to approach them instead?

''What an idiot!'' I hear.

''He's from District Three? I thought their tributes were supposed to be smart!''

''At least he's comical; he can provide some entertainment before he dies.''

Ha, whatever, they can believe what they want. They'll see sooner or later, though. But even if they're stating all these ridiculous things, they're still giving me their attention. And that's all I can really ask for.

As I turn to look for some tributes to approach, my Stylist speaks up again. ''Also, I would recommend looking at your competition. Check to see who you think could be a major threat to you, or even a potential ally.''

The Careers are laughing at the little boy from Ten, but then he opens up his mouth and says something in what looks like a serious and terrifying way. They all quickly shut their mouths and begin staring at one another. I'm about to take a step forward to go speak to them, but someone reaches me before I can.

''Hey, are you okay?'' I turn around and spot a boy with a spray tan and exotic hair that's put up in a man-bun staring at me. ''Everyone was laughing at you, and I didn't think it was nice. My name's Poet, what's yours?'' He sticks his hand out for me to shake it.

He's holding his right hand out, but I shake his hand with my left. ''I'm Emil,'' I reply. It might be a quirk of mine, but I've been shaking with my left hand for... I don't even know, but I've never done it any other way. ''And yeah, I'm fine, why are you concerned—?''

''Tributes!'' The administrator starts again. ''Get to your chariots, now! Anyone who's caught disobeying the rules will be severely punished. I repeat again: get to your chariots!''

''I don't know what you were trying to do with your outfit, but it was a nice try. But for now, I'll see you later, so bye!''

''Hey! You are a Poet, and you do know it... am I right?'' He gives me a funny look. ''No, because you rhymed when you said try and bye, so I rhymed your name with know it, and... Uh, yeah.''

Poet chuckles and turns away as he rushes back to his chariot. All of the Careers are going back to their chariots as well, and I spot the One girl again. My eyes continue to deceive me and I keep believing that she's actually naked but she's not.

A feeling of exasperation takes over me because I wasn't able to approach the Careers, but I'll have plenty of time to do that later on so it's perfectly fine. But maybe it was a good thing I didn't get to speak to them today. They're a bit intimidating... Sighing, I jog to my chariot and climb on top of it. The Chariot, however, is pretty tall, and I have to look back at Relieda to make sure that everything is secure.

''Are there any safety ropes around here or anything to keep us safe at all?'' I ask. ''I mean, these things are pretty tall, and the horses, I assume, will be traveling at a high speed velocity, so what happens if we fall off?''

She doesn't respond and just shrugs instead. From my chariot, I turn to observe how all the other tributes are doing. The Four girl launches herself onto her chariot gracefully, as does the One girl. The Two girl is pulled up by her District Partner, the Four boy is standing tall in his, the Seven girl is watching as her District Partner struggles; the One boy has been on his for awhile now, the Six girl has just reached hers, the two from Eleven support each other up, and everyone else is just having complications.

''Need help?'' I offer Cathodette, staring down as she continues trying to hop up. She's wearing this dress that's made out of nothing but wires, and a couple of lights begin illuminating every time she bounces up and down. I hold my hand out and just as she's about to take a hold of it, I pull back quickly and laugh. ''Psyche!''

This is honestly hilarious! Back in Three, I would've never had this much fun, but here, in the Capitol, it's like I'm free to explore everything. I don't have to spend my time in those stupid factories, skipping work days so that I could devise devious contraptions anymore.

I can use my brain for something even more fun besides constantly pranking those monotonous citizens. The Capitol is full of so much opportunity, and I plan on being opportunistic!

''Do you only care about yourself?'' Cathodette asks me. Turning towards her, I bring down my hand again just to pull it back up. Cathodette's Stylist gets tired of watching me taunt her and helps her up on your own. ''I mean, first you start off by being incredibly rude to me on the train ride here, then you decide to cause a giant scene and get everyone to stare at us, and just a couple of seconds ago you helped yourself up, and offered to help me, but it was just some stupid joke!''

''What? What are you talking about? I would never do something like that! How dare you accuse me of such things! You act like I'm a bad person.''

''No, you're not a bad person...''

Here we go, she's gonna start with something again. ''Watch out!'' I scream. Everyone looks over here, and I quickly push my partner off of the chariot. ''Come on, Cath, hasten it up! You still haven't mounted the chariot yet, but everyone else has!''

Isn't it funny, how soon someone can switch from joking to being imperious? The majority of the tributes and Stylists all watch as I jabber on and continue to yell at Cath to get up. It's so great! Sure, I am selfish, but I don't care. My schemes may be causing her and our Stylists trouble, but it's resulting in everyone's attention on me!

I know that I'm pissing her off, and I know that she's probably aching to attack me and let every bit of hatred that she feels for me out – but when she amuses me like this, when I get these reactions out of her and it helps attract others towards me, I just don't give a shit.

''...You're a _terrible_ person. You're on the same level as these filthy, arrogant, _conniving_ Capitol assholes.''

* * *

 **Ceres Morrisey, District Eleven  
**

* * *

''And remember: smile and wave!''

The chariots pull forward, and in front of every tribute is an incredibly large street. On the sides of the street, there are Capitolite performers who bang their drum sticks against their instruments. Once we pull out into the clearing of the street, I wince uncontrollably because of how bright the golden globe in the sky is.

Soon, though, I regain my vision and the blinding light isn't a problem anymore. But one thing that really stands out to me is the congregation of people. All around, to my left and to my right, there are crowds of funny-colored people that are screaming at the top of their lungs and chanting for us.

 _''WHOOOOO!''_ From every direction, the Capitol people all have one mind that they share, and continue to celebrate our arrival. The roaring crowd buzzes with excitement, and the beaming of joy that's present in their voices as they scream at the top of their lungs makes me sick.

 _I hate all of them..._ They all act the same, cheer the same, and feel the same emotion together. What I read on their faces is different from what's written on mine; they're excited and happy, while I'm grieving and hateful of them. In this moment, I truly realize just how different we actually are – just like how they always say, calling us District scum...

Suddenly, the cheering begins to grow louder and louder, and when Kaster taps on my shoulder and points forward, I realize just exactly what's going on. All the way in the front, behind the District Two chariot, the District Three boy is removing parts of his chariot outfit and throwing the pieces into the air; more like straight into the crowds of Capitol people, actually.

He chucks one up extremely high, and there's a weird tick to it as it jerks. The electron – I think that's what it is – explodes in the air and sparks go flying everywhere. It's a beautiful picture, and everyone is just staring at him in jealousy – but for him, this looks like so much fun because there's a smug grin on his face.

Up on the monitors above us, his face appears as he continues his acts. The Capitolites go crazy over him, the cheering still continuing after who knows how many minutes have gone by. Although, the other tributes don't seem too happy about him stealing all the spotlight, especially not the Careers.

The Two girl glares daggers as she stares back at him, and on the monitors, it shows the Four girl growling as she leans into her chariot and holds out a fist.

 _''EMIL! EMIL! EMIL!''_ The Capitol people begin cheering, still mesmerized by how he manages to do that with his outfit. I knew that there was something up with him. When he did the same thing back in the garage, everyone started calling him an idiot, but I just had a feeling that it wasn't a fluke. This is why you don't judge people too quickly, and Emil's a perfect example of that. _He knows what he's doing._

There's a mixed chanting of tributes' names. From Emil it goes to someone named Blush, then to Atlas, and even Kaster's name is in the mix. I turn, only to see him waving and pumping his fists. ''What the hell are you doing?'' I question, barely able to hear myself over the Capitol.

''...They love us, Ceres.''

He's joking, right? ''No they don't! Why the hell would you wave and hype up a crowd that wants to see all of us die?'' I censure. ''How the hell does that make any fucking sense?! Last time I checked, people who love you aren't excited about your imminent death. They don't love us!''

''I know that,'' he sighs. ''But they're the benevolent people that have a huge impact on whether we live or not. And I don't know about you, but I want to live. What I'm doing right now... I-I don't like this, having them cheer for me, but if I plan on surviving, I'm gonna need sponsors.''

''What the...'' I breathe. ''So? Who cares?! Even so, you don't have to do all of... _this!_ You could just wave and not do all this extra shit! You're just providing them with even more jubilation, and I don't—''

Kaster quickly grabs my hand and twirls me around like we're dancing or something, which causes the Capitol to go ape-shit crazy on the applause. He looks down at me and winks, and I want to yell at him, but before I can, he pulls me closer to him and wraps his arm around my waist before I can pull back.

Letting go of me, he spins me around one last time before letting me stand up on my own again. I want to yell at him right now, but maybe he's right. The Capitol is showing us empathy, growing a feeling of love for us, and that's so easy to see because they have our faces up on the larger monitors. Kaster holds my hand and begins waving, again.

I don't want to do it. I really, _really_ don't want to start waving and smiling for the people that I so desperately hate. I want to kill them all because of what they've done to me – first putting my family in a poor environment, then killing the love of my life, and now bringing me into a death battle and they expect me to be all giggles and laughter and have a happy, cheerful smile on my face..!

But I think about this. Cheering and waving would get them on my side. They'd enjoy the company that I'd provide, and tributes that are liked tend to survive longer... And no matter how much I hate myself for this, it's worth it, so...

With the largest grin that I can muster, I begin waving vigorously and smile at all of them. A woman with orange hair blows a kiss at Kaster, and a male with a mix of purple and green hair throws something at the both of us. Even a child decides to donate us with a gift, but I'm not exactly sure what it is because I can't see it with how fast we're moving.

Kisses are being blown all around. Kaster receives a couple and pretends like he's catching them all and saving them in his heart. A gift manages to land at our feet, and I spot a small rose. I pick it up, and, with the intentions of making myself likeable, I throw it up into the air and hold my hand out.

Then... something happens when I least expect it. Our Stylists told us to be prepared, and I guess that this was what it was for. Kaster's outfit is a plain brown robe with gold wisps that are locked around his ankles. But his outfit transforms. On his arms, green leaves begin to sprout and it's used to represent the agriculture of District Eleven – how we stay strong and grow, despite the rough circumstances.

And with me, my earthy gown changes shape and my entire body is now covered in nothing more than a beautiful array of flowers, and I feel so light because of it. Even my flower headband turns into one large purple flower that surrounds my hair. My worn down hair is complimented with the change of this outfit, and I can basically feel the million pairs of eyes shifting towards us.

Suddenly, all of the chariots come to a slow stop, but the cheering is still loud and ear-splitting. When I stare up, I see a _massive_ mansion with stylish decorations, and I can only guess that this mansion belongs to no one other than that condescending President of ours.

The District One tributes both turn around at the same time and stare at both Kaster and I. The boy is dressed in what looks like an assassin's robe, but it only covers his arms and upper body until it cuts off at the top of his stomach. At his waist, there's a bandage wrap of gold, and a velvet skirt is covering his lower body. There's a pendant of some sort dangling from his gold wrap, and it looks quite nice.

He's smiling at us, while his partner, who's in a nude bodysuit, glares at us. The boy doesn't look like he takes anything seriously, judging by his kind features, but he could be deadly for all I know – he didn't Volunteer for no reason, he's obviously got something under his sleeves... literally.

And same goes with his District Partner. Her glare might not be as intimidating as she wants it to be, but... who knows? She could be the best Career here, for all I know. ''Hey!'' I hear. Both Kaster and I, and everyone else, turn to look at the District Five tributes, the girl with her arms crossed over her chest. ''Stop stealing all the spotlight!''

I turn away and ignore her, but still stare at her and her District Partner from my peripheral vision. There are clockworks and gears on her dress, and they're moving on her own. I don't know how she's standing next to her partner without faltering, though, because his outfit is made out of solar panels, and they're extremely bright. _Whenever the light hits it, I wonder if he's burning on the inside.  
_

''Tributes!'' The President walks out. People start cheering even louder, whistles and the vibrant stamping of feet filling the air with energy that doesn't cease. Well, until he puts his hand up in the air – that's when the entire audience goes quiet. ''It's been one hundred and seventy-six years since these Games have become a tradition to compromise with the Districts for their disloyalty and rebellious behavior. Panem thanks you for the entertainment that you've provided for so many years; your sacrifice has been a major key to our country's success. Personally, _I_ thank you for how much you've all—''

''Fuck the Capitol!'' I yell out, when nobody is looking at me. The audience gasps, and the tributes all turn around. I turn around as well, to make it look like I'm spotting out the culprit.

Kaster grabs my hand and squeezes it, his sweat mixing with mine. ''—for how much you've all cooperated with us, even with your dispassionate emotions. And tributes,'' the President goes on, ignoring my comment. ''Watch what you say. And like usual, have a happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!''

The President walks back into his sumptuous home, and the chariots turn. The screaming of the Capitol regains its momentum. The District One chariot pulls ahead first, both tributes ignoring everyone who's staring at them. Both of the tributes from Two look at me, the boy with a charming smile on his face, and the girl with impressed features on hers.

''I want to see you do that again,'' Kaster says, smiling at me. I'm surprised by what he says because I thought he was frightened by my words and was worried about the repercussions if I was caught.

''What do you mean?'' He doesn't answer. What I notice about him is that he's someone who's abrupt with his words. He's clear about what he desires, and I can admire that. ''Fine. But I'm doing it _my_ way, and it'll be done in the _best_ way possible.''

''A perfectionist, are we?''

 _...I hate every single on of these people._ There's one last trip around the Capitol, and the fans continue to cheer us on with adulation. Instead of taking the same, regular route that we took before, the chariots take a circuitous route instead, this time, and when we finally arrive back to the garage, away from all the perfidious people who _crave_ our deaths, we're swarmed by our Prep-Team.

''Oh, you two were absolutely _stunning_ out there!'' Haleele exclaims. He holds out his hand and helps me down, and I hold out my hand to help Kaster descend. ''Kaster, what you did out there was amazing! The Capitol loved you for it! You, too, Ceres! Going along with the spin and acting sweet with each other, ooh!''

I take off my headband and sigh loudly, the sweat staining my forehead. ''I just wish that that little outburst didn't happen...''

''Who cares?'' I retort, wiping the sweat off of my forehead.

''That was _rude_ of you to say!''

''I don't care if it was rude, and I don't care if the Capitol doesn't appreciate me for it,'' I admit. ''Fuck the Capitol, fuck the Games, fuck everything that you people make us go through..!''

Haleele looks completely out of breathe. ''Do not say that!'' He shouts. ''Ceres, are you still upset over being Reaped?! Get over it! It's going to be _okay!_ You made your mark on the Capitol, and they were in love with you out there! Everything is going to be alright!''

...Is he serious? Did he really just say that everything— No, he couldn't have. These Capitolites aren't _that_ stupid. ''Stop, you're joking...''

''No, Ceres—''

''Shut up!'' I yell. ''Just shut up, okay! Nothing will be alright! You monsters are sending us to our deaths, but before you do, you decide to fancy us up with nice outfits and give us a tour around your damned city! Oh, yeah, because me getting a fucking tour is going to make everything better, right? Just because you fancy me for a temporary amount of time doesn't remove the fact that I'm still at a high ass chance of dying very soon!''

''Stop your querulous bickering!'' Haleele says. ''Now, your Mentors will be waiting for you two on your District Floor in the hotel. If you want, I can accommodate the both of you there, or—''

''Just shut up!'' I repeat. I'm trying so hard to hold back the tears, but it hurts me... The other tributes are looking at us, and they're all eyeing me with questionable looks. ''I hate all of you! You act like we're friends, but—''

''Hey, hey!'' Kaster whispers. He looks at Haleele and then back at me, then decides, ''Why don't we go looking for allies? I mean, we're gonna need to go looking for people to team up with eventually, so why not start now?''

''No!'' I exclaim.

''But, come on, this is a good time to go talk to others tributes while they're all scoping out their competition,'' Kaster declares. ''Maybe we could even ally together with a couple of other tributes and... y'know, work with them.''

''I don't want to,'' I refuse. Kaster continues to pressure me into going to find allies, and his reason for it is because we never know when it might be too late or not. But it doesn't matter to me, I think I'll be fine when I want to go looking for allies. But right now... ''Kaster, I said no. I've made up my mind, I don't want to go looking for allies now.''

''Fine, but can we at least be allies?''

''Kaster, I don't know, I'll have to think about it.''

''Fair enough.''

''But right now, I'm not sure what you can do for me,'' I sigh. ''I'll let you know when I make up my mind. But as of now, my mind is made up on something else – I'm not going to go looking for allies just yet, that can be held back for later on. I'm just gonna go up to our floor, because I'm tired and want to get through this day without anymore bullshit.''

... _It's okay_ , he said. No, it's not fucking okay. As I'm walking to the elevator doors, that is the only thought that's running through my mind. I try to ignore that thought, though, but it won't go away.

Sighing, I think about how Kaster was willing to fill into the Capitol's needs. He made those horrible people cheer and smile, and for what? Some stupid sponsors? You don't need sponsors to win, many tributes from the past have proven that. But it looks like Kaster might be a sell-out. The last I see of him is him walking up to a girl with a sequin silver dress on with a matching crown and high heels. She looks uncomfortable in it, but when Kaster opens up his mouth, she immediately begins smiling, like she's charmed by his presence.

I don't know what his game is, but I don't know if I can trust someone who's willing to satisfy the Capitol in order to survive. If I do ally with him, he might kill me in my sleep. For all I know, he could be a Capitol supporter himself, and I don't agree with anything that he's done so far. I don't know, I'm judging him too quickly. But that's something I don't do, along with underestimating others. I'm just confused right now and don't know what to think.

It might be a little bit too early, but I've made up my mind. I'll find a better ally than Kaster, and maybe even more than one. He's a nice kid and all, but when it comes down to it, will he back me up? I don't think he will...

And that's why I might just have to leave him behind in the dust and find someone more prudent and trustworthy.

 _Sorry, Kaster._

* * *

 **A/N: Ayeeee! So updates have been coming quick as of lately, and I might just cut down on those. I need to live my life, because it seems like I don't have one right now and ahhh ;u But yeah, I just wanna get over with this story by the time summer ends, and I dunno if I can do that but I'm trying. And yeah, I know, not all of the tribute chariot costumes were shown and all that crap, but screw it, I didn't feel like writing an entire POV based on one tribute examining all the others' outfits. I thought it would be better if they stated their opinions and had emotion in it and shit, and just really wanted to go off personality more than just looking around and being like, ''Wow, her outfit's pretty cool,'' instead of doing shit like, ''I hate the Capitol. They dress us up in this 'stylish' shit and think we enjoy this..!'' Y'know?  
**

 **Also... I'm not trying to be one of those authors who are like, ''Bruh, where tf are all my reviews at?! You guys just abandoned me and shit, I'm gonna kill your tribute if you don't pick up the pace soon.'' Or the ones who leave subliminal messages and are like, ''Hey, noticed a couple of you have left me hanging... Just letting you know that the Bloodbath will be updated pretty soon.'' Nah, Idgaf about that, I'm not a petty author like that (also, no diss to authors who do that. I'm close friends with a couple of you who do, calm tf down, don't start beef) I'm just wondering where most of you are at. A lot of you told me in the beginning that you weren't gonna be reviewing every chapter, and I don't have a problem with that, and a couple of close friends haven't been either, and yeah, I know, we don't review each other's shit anyway, but a couple of you who were have just left and I'm like, ''Are they still reading?'' I don't mind if you don't review, I just wanna know that you're still here and enjoying the story. Just lemme know if you're still active is all I'm trying to say.**

 **But yeah, short A/N. Don't have much to say. The poll will still be open, and excuse any idiotic mistakes made in this chapter. I was proofreading them on the document and I clicked something and my whole browser restarted without saving and I didn't feel like going through that shit again. It was too much trouble for me, and quite annoying as well, so sorry about that. Anyway, I'm thinking about keeping this kind of layout for now on. You guys know the tributes' ages and genders, I think, so I'll just keep it at their names and Districts. And this is how the Interview chapter will go as well. They'll get ready with their Prep-Team, get dressed and stuff, and then I'll have like, two POVs dedicated to reactions and shit. Anyway, onto the questions.**

* * *

 **Thoughts on each tribute POV?**

 **Would you go against what your Prep-Team told you to do, depending on how you'd be feeling at the current moment?**

 **How do you think you'd feel if you were a tribute and all these people were cheering for you and your upcoming death?**

 **Your ally outshines you on your chariot, what do you do?**

* * *

 **So yeah. I made some stupid mistakes in this chapter, like forgetting that two words that sound alike are spelled differently and crap, and like I said, too annoyed to actually go back and fix that crap. So bear with me, and that's all for now. See you guys next time, and have a great day/afternoon/night/whatever time of day is for you. Bye! ^-^**


	10. Keep Your Head Up

**Training Day I:**

* * *

 **Rhea Mandelle, District Nine**

* * *

The first thing that I notice about the Training Center is just how wide the entire building is. I mean, I heard about Training Centers being big in the Career Districts, but is this really what they're like? This thing is absolutely enormous! _There's no way that the Capitol would hand the Career Districts something this large, no matter how much they adore them._

When I enter – and I'm one of the last people to arrive while following the rest of the group – there's a circle around the administrator from yesterday. Eliora, I think her name was. Yeah. She's holding up a clipboard and has a pen in her hand. Moving her head from side-to-side, she takes note of which tributes are here, and it seems like all of them are present.

Standing next to me is a boy who's bouncing on his feet, like he's actually excited to be here. His fists are balled up tightly, like he can't wait to jump into the action, and I'm weary of him. I feel so uncomfortable around him, thinking that he could pounce on me and rip out my hair in any second now.

''Welcome, tributes, to the Training Center,'' Eliora introduces. ''Here is where all of you will be accompanied to everyday for three days consecutively at ten in the morning. What consists here are stations that will provide help for all of you to better prepare you for the Games – and yes, even the Careers can find help. All around, there are racks of deadly weapons that can be used to torment your fellow tributes in the Arena.''

When she says this, a couple of tributes begin whispering to each other, and some even begin sweating. I feel a hand reach for mine, and when I look down and see that creepy boy again, I shriek. As soon as the two of us make eye-contact, I burst into tears, trying to back away from the malicious male.

''Settle down, now,'' Eliora says. ''You,'' she points at me. ''Get yourself up here so that I can keep an eye on you. Don't start trouble now. You have nothing to cry over yet, honey.'' My heart skips a beat when she says this. ''Now, if you'd all let me continue... These weapons are real, do you understand that? And by no means necessary should I see _any_ of you fighting. If you're caught fighting, there will be extreme consequences. If you want to spar with someone, there are trainers to do that with.''

''What if we're _dying_ to fight?'' I turn around and see the same boy who touched my hand raising his up to ask a question. His eyes meet mine again, and silent tears go streaking down my face once more.

''Then you can settle it out in the Arena, there's nothing holding you back once you're in there. Go at it and rip each others' throats out if you'd like,'' Eliora states. ''Just don't do it in here.''

''Great.''

''I would also like to warn all of you to decide not to only practice with weapons,'' she heeds. ''Knowledge is just as deadly as a weapon. If you decide to spend all of your time figuring out how to use a sword, you won't have any survival skills to make a fire or realize which types of berries are the poisonous ones or not, or even learn how to decontaminate dirty water. Just keep that in mind.''

I let that sink into my mind for a second.

Right, it's a fact that weapons help tributes win – after all, that's how they usually end up coming out of the Arena alive, but I have no weapon experience. And what am I gonna do in the span of three days? There's no way possible that I'm gonna learn how to use a weapon properly and efficiently, so why should I even bother?

I can't do this, and I'll never be able to. I don't even get why these stupid people bother to tell us how to train when most of us – especially me – won't even gain anything from this. It's ridiculous and pointless! Pointless just like my hopes of actually surviving the Bloodbath. There's no confidence in me and I'm not athletic. I'm a clumsy little girl, so what can I possibly do? Even with a knife at my side, I'd probably burst into tears and begin shaking like a little brat because I just can't handle it!

''You okay?'' I look up and see a tall boy accosting me. There's a One on his shoulder, and that scares me. For all I know, he could be the person sending a spear through my chest in the Arena; all of these people could be. Slowly, I turn away and stare at the ground.

I was hoping that he would leave me alone, but he bends over and looks me right in the eye as he peaks down under me. ''I was just wondering if—''

Jolting backwards, I let out a shriek and feel no shame when the tears continue to rush down my face. ''Excuse you, I am still speaking,'' Eliora interrupts the both of us. ''You need to stop crying,'' she's referring to me. ''And you need to stop intimidating her.''

''Are you accusing me of starting trouble?'' he asks. ''I was just asking if she was okay.''

''Do not talk back to me.''

''Whatever.''

''But like I was saying earlier,'' Eliora regains her state of mind. ''Survival will help. But do not focus mainly on that. Weapons are an important part, and yes, I may be contradicting myself here, but I'm letting you all know that you must plan properly. Spend an equal amount of time learning both, but that is not my decision to make for you, it is your own. The booths around here are open until the Training Center closes, so use that time to your advantage and stay at them as long as you need. That's all that I have to tell you, but if you need any assistance, then do not falter to ask me or any of the trainers here.''

''But why?!'' I cry.

''Why what?'' Eliora asks.

''Why do you guys make us go through this?'' I can feel my heart pounding and my body temperature rising incredibly. ''Why do we have to learn how to properly use a weapon to kill each other? Why do we have to learn what's right from wrong when it comes to berries or plants or whatever so that we don't get infected in the Arena? Why did you guys even come up with this stupid idea—?!''

''This stupid idea is tradition, and you will follow that tradition,'' she growls. ''Your sacrifice is what makes our country great, and if you cannot deal with what's going on, then just jump off of your pedestal. Complaining won't change a thing, so you might as well get through it yourself if you can't find a way to look past it.''

My heart begins beating at a thousand rates per minute. Sweat drips from the top of my head down to my nose, and hangs at the tip of my chin. I tightly clench my fists and bare my teeth, trying so hard to hold myself back from yelling and lashing out at Eliora, but holding it back only results in more tears.

I'm trying so hard to think about everyone else who's going through so much in Panem. All of the starving mothers who desperately try to survive for their children, all of the jobless fathers trying to provide for their families, and all of the uneducated kids who don't know what to do with their lives because they've been kicked out of their parents' home.

But what is worse than the Hunger Games? They're lucky compared to me. They're fortunate; I'm _unfortunate_. Lilac told me to keep my head held up high and to look for the best in every situation, but what's to look at here?

Everyone just witnessed me cry, and who would want to ally with a crybaby? I've ruined all of my shots at survival in these Games. Every tribute gets accredited to something while spending time in the Arena; I'm gonna get accredited for being the first death, killed either maliciously or quickly.

But maybe I should get accustomed to death. Maybe watch some film with Lilac and prepare myself for what's awaiting me in a couple of days. Maybe if I stay still and sit down on my pedestal and wait for someone to attack me, then I'll do happily. It won't be a misfortune, after all.

''I will, then!'' I agree. Eliora looks at me, perplexed. The other tributes have all turned and gone already, but Eliora and I remain on the Capitol seal that's painted on the concrete floor. ''I already know that I'm not gonna live, and nobody is willing to ally with me. This is just so stupid in the end. My shots at winning are as big as a successful rebellion.''

''I'm happy to hear that you've made a decision,'' she nods. ''That leaves space for all the interesting tributes to put on a show for the Capitol, and that's all they hoped for. But if a tribute like you isn't willing to fight for her life, to prove that she's worth at least one breath of air, then it makes no difference to us – we'll forget about you as soon as your face appears in the sky.''

''Your adoration for these Games is sickening,'' I mumble.

''And your lack of confidence is shameful,'' she laughs. ''How in the world are you supposed to show everyone that you're worth the Victor crown if you've given up before you hit the Arena? You act like you're suffering!''

''I _am_ suffering!''

''No, you're not,'' she shakes her head. ''What these kids go through in the Arena is something you'll never experience properly because you're not even trying to hide the fact that you're insecure. You're just waiting for death to hit you, but you're not embracing it. You're trying to doubt it but you look foolish. If you were actually trying, I would give you some hope – no matter how small – and tell you that you were worth winning and living, but I guess not.''

She doesn't even look back at me when she turns around, and walks away. I want her to come back and apologize to me and tell me that I _am_ worth it, that she's willing to talk to me and reassure me.

But she proceeds to walk away, and I'm left with my depressing thoughts and lack of hope.

I probably should just end it early.

* * *

 **Avery Billings, District Ten**

* * *

Guess where I'm going.

There's a rack near the far side of the Training Center that consists of nothing but knives. Shiny knives that glisten even as I continue to get closer and closer to them. Everyone around seems so prioritized in their own business, besides that little girl who just sits on the Capitol logo in the center of the building.

She's honestly such a little bitch. I just wanna see her bleed. She better watch her back in the Arena, but I hope she stays like this, on her pedestal or something, so that I can run over there with a knife and slice her forehead open to see what's hiding inside that head of hers.

Ignoring the girl after multiple seconds of staring at her and contemplating multiple ways to kill her with a knife, I accelerate my pace and arrive at the knife rack at the same time my District Partner does. We both stop at the same time, just as I reach in for a knife that she was looking to grab, and I let out a chuckle.

''Didn't know you were a fan of knives,'' I ponder, tapping my fingers against the hilt of the murderous weapon. These knives are absolutely perfect. There's no rust to them, nor are there any scratches or any signs of faults. ''Well, you gonna speak up or continue to just stare at me?''

Vendetta was her name – and I wouldn't have learned that if my Mentor didn't speak up and call her out on her quiet bullshit. She grabs the hilt of the knife, dragging the entire weapon away from me just as I was about to take it.

I narrow my eyes and stare up at her, furrowing my eyebrows as abusive thoughts flow throughout my mind. ''Hey,'' I call, abstaining my anger from her being able to recognize it. ''So you just rip other people's weapons away from them?''

Constantly, and I mean _constantly_ , she just remains quiet and it's beginning to get to me. I clench my fists and bite back and snarl as I watch her walk away, and turn my attention back to the other knives. ''Stupid whore,'' I whisper. ''She thinks she can just do this and that whenever she pleases, take my weapon away, but watch when I fucking stab her in the throat in the..!''

Sighing, I close my eyes and repeatedly tell myself that there are an abundant supply of knives all around – some short, some dull, some small, but all effective in the same way; I can use them all to kill when it's all said and done.

It's been some time now, and I haven't accomplished anything significant at all. Absentmindedly, I measure the knife that's in my hands and throw it back and forth from left to right.

There's a movement in the corner of my eye, and I see a female silhouette pass by me. Her brown hair swivels in the air, and she reaches out to grab a random knife, but there's a smile on her face.

''Hello,'' I say.

Hesitantly, she leans against the display of weapons and looks at me questioningly. ''Hi?''

''Don't be a stranger,'' I laugh. ''We're gonna eventually be in the Arena, killing each other soon, so why not get to know each other before all the mayhem?''

Maybe she's like me... I want to fit in with someone, _anyone_. I look at her shoulder and see a Three. _Oh, so she's a smart girl, huh?_ She acts as if she didn't hear my question and turns around. Shooting my hand forward, I grab a hold of her shoulder and ask, ''It feels nice in your hands, doesn't it? Bet you've used it before.''

''Are you accusing me of something?'' she snaps, turning around rapidly. ''If you're implying that I've used a knife to hurt someone before, then you're wrong.''

''Hey, hey, don't be so acrimonious, I was just wondering if you liked the feeling of that knife.'' I place my fingers on the tip of my knife and smile. ''I was just thinking that the knife you chose was just so achromatic... Like, it's just so dull of color and boring. You should've chosen something like this, one that shines and has great texture.''

The girl's lips quiver slowly, like she's aching in pain or something, but she quickly turns back around and jogs away. She looks over her shoulder, and it's as if she was trying to hide something from me. Like she was holding down her walls to make sure that I didn't intrude, but I will – eventually.

She ends up in one of the training stations, and I want to follow after her, but I came into these Games with one thought in my mind – to join the Careers. And there they are, all the way on the other side of the room, near most of the weapon stations around the target dummies.

I jog over there in a hurry, reaching them just in time as they begin introducing themselves in what looks like District order. Or maybe I'm wrong, because they already look accustomed to one another. They probably introduced themselves back in the garage, when I approached them the first time, but now they're talking about weapons or something.

''What about you, pretty boy?'' the One girl asks her District Partner. ''You haven't said anything at all yet.''

''Yeah, you've been watching us and keeping quiet like Two over there,'' the Four girl points to the Two girl.

''Excuse me?''

''Yes, you're excused, what is it?''

I'm unable to forbear a stifled laugh from escaping my lips, which draws all of their attention towards me. When all of their eyes meet my body, I inwardly jump but keep my cool as I stand in front of all of them in an appropriate manner.

''Him again?'' the Four girl groans, and turns around to her District Partner. ''Just ignore him, he's just looking for attention.''

 _Looking for attention?_ ''No, that's not what I'm looking for at all,'' I say out loud.

All of the Careers ignore me and exchange in their conversation again. ''I'm skilled with a couple of weapons,'' the One boy admits. ''But I like to keep hold of a javelin, as you can tell.'' He points to the javelin in his hand and stabs the bottom of the weapon to the ground. ''What about you guys?''

''We already said what we used,'' the One girl growls. ''Atlas uses a katana, Sigrid uses those butterfly swords or whatever they're called, Clarice uses her basic District Four weapon – a spear – and Zepp – can I call you Zepp? – uses some staff-type weapon that I've never seen before.''

''Quarterstaff,'' he corrects. ''And sure, you can call me Zepp.''

''I use knives,'' I say aloud.

''You can't say _we_ and try to snap on me if you didn't even tell us what you used,'' the One male gets up. He plays with the javelin in his hand and whirls it behind his back and back to the front. ''Or do you _not_ have a certain weapon and are afraid to let out the truth about you Volunteering?''

''Don't you ever question me like that!'' she grunts, pointing her finger directly in his face. With the force that she just showed, she could've poked his eye out, but she seemed hesitant on actually hitting him as he just stood still and laughed. ''Of course I have a weapon.''

''Then what is it?''

''I work with ropes, and poison,'' she nervously smiles, though her body language shows confidence. The other Careers all laugh, none of them even trying to hide their amusement. The Four boy seems to be having the time of his life, as he holds his weapon in front of him and thrusts it forward, taunting the girl.

''Ropes and poison?'' He sounds like he's discriminating her. He nudges his District Partner and begins talking again. ''You hear this?'' Getting up from his bench seat, he questions her: ''How are you gonna use rope and poison? You gonna wrap it around someone's throat and choke them, or better yet, hang them from a tree branch in the Arena? And your poison, how dumb would someone have to be to fall for that?''

''She thinks she's smart,'' his District Partner shakes her head. ''How much you wanna bet she can't even use a weapon properly? Should we even _allow_ you to join the Careers, because as of now you sound pretty useless to me?''

''I agree,'' the Two girl says. She looks like the youngest one here, besides me.

''You guys act like you're all big and shit, but you're not showing any skills, so you can't be talking to me like that.''

''Shut up, Blush,'' the One boy tells his District Partner. He steps forward, looking at the dummies that are standing erect a long way across the front field. He draws his right arm back, takes a step forward with the opposite foot, and hurls his arm forward, sending the javelin flying across the field.

The javelin hits dead center, on the heart of the dummy, and he turns around with a cocky grin on his face. ''Okay, cool, you can use a javelin. So what, I'm leading the Career Pack this year, and there's nothing you guys can say to stop me.''

''Actually, no, it doesn't work that way,'' Atlas, I'm guessing, says. ''All of us have to agree on a leader, and you don't seem fit. I'm not trying to be harsh or anything, but that's just the truth. If you can't accept that, then get out.''

He winks at her, and I think his charm could've worked if he didn't sound so rude at first. He realizes his mistake and kinda shies away. ''I agree,'' his District Partner speaks up. ''I think whoever gets the highest training score should be leader.''

Zeppelin's District Partner's eyes widen at first, but then she chuckles and nods her head. Everyone else around all nod their heads as well, except for Blush. She stands there, flustered, her cheeks puffed and an exasperated frown on her face.

''I also think that's the way to go,'' I raise my hand up.

Turning around, the Four girl snaps and grabs my shirt as she shoves my shoulder. ''Why the hell are you still here, didn't I tell you to get out?'' Her face is so close to mine, and I can't help but laugh because I'm this close to a Career! This is so exciting. I begin bouncing up and down, the knife in my hand shaking with enthusiasm.

''Yeah, yeah!'' I laugh. ''Keep grabbing my shirt like that, show me that Career mentality of yours! Huh, why don't you hit me? Stab that spear into me right now! You're holding it so closely to you that it looks like you need protection! Why don't we fight right now, you and me, one-on-one? Let me see exactly how you Careers work!''

Tentatively, she lets go of my shirt and shoves me away, again, but I grab her spear and rip it free from her hands. ''Oh, did you lose something?'' I ask. She growls and steps forward, but Zeppelin tugs on her shirt and shakes his head.

It's like he controls her or something, like he has authority over her. She's so unstable that it's unreal, but even without him, she's trying so hard to hold herself back. I toss her spear away and she goes to get it, but I kick it away. ''How disrespectful of me.''

Her fist goes flying through the air, but she quickly stops when she comes to her senses and holds herself back. I toss the knife in my hand right at her, and she quickly catches it in between her index and middle finger. ''What do you want?''

''I want in.''

''In on what, the Careers?'' Atlas asks.

''No shit, smartass. You think I'm gonna settle with these other tributes and waste my time with them?''

''You could.''

''But I won't.''

Four laughs as he walks forward, his face cold and stony with no emotion. ''You want in, fine?'' The others stare at him in shock, and begin complaining. ''Hey, shut up!'' He demands. ''Give him a chance. We don't even know what he's worth yet.'' He turns back to me and tilts his head as he holds his weapon. ''Show us what you got, kid.''

A large grin is plastered on my face, and I force my knife out of Four's hand. She eyes me, and I step on her spear, as I walk towards a dummy.

''Oh, I'll show you what I got.''

* * *

 **Bree Andersson, District Six**

* * *

''Bree, where are you going?'' Poet's been following me everywhere I've been, trying way too hard to make sure that I'm alright. He reaches out to grab my hand, and I look back at him. ''Tell me what's going through your mind.''

Sighing, I speak up. ''I'm going to a survival station. It's just that... I really want to survive, and this will help. There's nothing wrong, if that's what you're actually wondering. You don't have to follow me to make sure that I'm okay anymore, okay? You can leave me alone now.''

Turning back, I spot a trainer sitting behind his station, tapping his fingers on the desk to create a musical rhythm that fills his boredom. Since it's empty over there, it's obviously the right place to start off, then move on to weapons – only after I get the hang of things, though.

''Well...'' Poet quietly groans. ''Maybe I don't want to leave you alone.'' He sighs, then steps forward. ''You just seem so distant, and I don't like that. I want to be friends with you, and by friends, I mean that I want to be allies with you, too, and constantly be around. I hope you don't find that weird, I just want to make sure that you always have someone to lean on...''

If I was ignorant, I would suspect him of trying to trick me, but the kid is too adorable. He's actually being genuine, and it's so hard for me to believe that someone can actually be this nice. _The kid doesn't deserve to be here._

Nodding my head, I grin and say, ''Okay... I-I'm fine with that.'' Joy is spread across his face, and the expression that he holds is something that would make your entire day. ''So, you coming with me to this plant station or not?''

I take off walking, and he trails right behind me. When we reach the station, the trainer has his head held down to his lap. ''Hello,'' I say. ''These look interesting, wouldn't you say?''

There are roots, berries, plants, twigs, and herbs scattered across the table. Looking up, the man sighs a breathe of relief, like we're his saviors or something. ''Hi.'' He nods at Poet and begins putting on plastic gloves. ''You came here because you'd like to learn about these plants, I would hope.''

''No, we came here to have a friendly conversation with you because we have nothing better to do with our time,'' I smile, shrugging. He gives a curt nod, catching my drift, and decides to speak up against my sarcasm.

''You could be a tad bit less extreme on the sarcasm, but that's fine.'' He stands up and alters the order of the plants, then starts again. ''What would you like to learn about?''

''Just give me everything that you can, please,'' I say. ''Whatever way you want to, I don't mind how you introduce all of this to us.''

''So he's with you, too? Okay.'' Poet smiles, looking incredibly happy to be around me, and it's honestly so sweet. It's so hard for me to imagine him in an Arena... ''Do you know what this is?''

''No, sir,'' I respond.

''See this?'' He holds up a beautiful herb. ''This is called Foxglove, also known as dead man's bells, and it's something that you want to stay away from. You can recognize this plant just by its beauty, with the long green spikes and tube-like purple flowers that it consists of. Some people have mistaken it for something that's edible, but it is not. No matter what things might come down to, do NOT touch this plant. It should never be used for internal uses or consumption.''

Eyeing the plant carefully, I implant the memory of its beauty in my mind to make sure that I don't forget it. Poet, on the other hand, seems unsure of himself.

''But I've seen a lot of plants that looked like that back in Six, and people used to eat them all the time when food became scarce; nothing happened to them, though, so I'm confused...''

The trainer shrugs, leaving his leader role empty. I sigh and begin thinking. How would he be able to distinguish the plants, besides by ignoring the plant and not touching it at all? Looking closer, I see something that the trainer didn't point out. ''Wait, look inside of the plant,'' I instruct. ''Do you see those yellow and white beads?'' Poet shakes his head. ''Look closer. Did the plants in Six have those?''

''No, I don't think so!'' He takes a closer look and comes to a conclusion. ''They didn't! Thanks, Bree.''

''No problem.''

''You're like a natural-born leader,'' he says. ''Like, you've shown so much care and interest in things, and you've taken over so many different circumstances. You're prepared for all of this mentally and physically, and it's impressive.''

''Thanks,'' I smile.

''Now this,'' the trainer carefully takes out a purple flower, holding it cautiously, ''is Wolfsbane. This plant, unlike Foxglove—''

''Hello. You guys learn anything fun?'' Kaster, the boy from yesterday, calls out as he takes a stand next to me. ''Remember me?''

''I believe so, and yes,'' I smile at him, raising my eyebrows. ''I remember you, Kaster. Nice to see you again.''

''Nice to see you, too,'' he says, then waves at Poet. ''Mind if I stay and learn a couple of things with you guys?'' He looks at the trainer, and the trainer looks at me.

''Go ahead, kid,'' he says. ''As I was saying, Wolfsbane is extremely deadly. Foxglove is cake compared to this, which is—''

''Hey, that looks extremely familiar,'' Kaster says. ''It reminds me of the orchids back in Eleven. They have so many similarities when it comes to looks.'' He brings his hand forward to touch, but all three of us grow startled when the trainer slaps Kaster's hand away.

''Don't touch that!'' he hisses. ''It is similar to the orchids in your District in terms of looks, but it is _not_ similar to them at all in any other way. This plant will kill you if you do so much as rub it against your skin externally. No matter how small the touch, it will slow down your pulse and can be used as a drug to make sure that you're sedative.''

''So it makes us sleep, so what?''

''No, there's more to that, right?'' I look at Kaster, then at Poet, and ask the trainer. ''See, there's obviously something wrong with this drug. It might make you feel sleepy and comfortable and relieve stress, but there's a catch to it. Just touching it could kill you, so imagine what consuming it could do. I feel as though with that touch, it takes a few seconds, or minutes, to feel the effects of death. But consuming it... that takes hours, right?'' The trainer nods his head. ''And you don't wake up when you do fall asleep. You die in your sleep.''

''Correct,'' the trainer says. ''Looks like you've gotten the hang of this.''

''Of course I have. I'm amazingly good at this and could lead an alliance all on my own with my intelligence if I wanted to.''

''Whoa there, that confidence of yours is good, but don't let it control you,'' the trainer heeds. ''You might become a complicated person and people most likely won't appreciate that.''

''But there's a lot to appreciate,'' I groan. ''If I'm leading a team, then they should be appreciative of how hardworking I'm willing to be for them. They could learn to listen and just realize how well I am for them, and understand that my way is the right way to go.''

''Headstrong, are we now? That's usually a good thing, but it's a bit over-the-top for you.''

''Excuse m—?''

''Hey,'' Kaster interrupts. ''Teach me about that, please.'' He points to another beautiful plant, but this one is at the end of the table, away from everything else.

The trainer smiles, looking ambitious. ''I was going to save that one for last, but it wouldn't hurt to teach you about it early on.'' He picks up the plant and brings it back, and the first thing that catches my senses is the smell; it's so ambrosial.

''This one is Henbane.'' The man tries to keep it away from us, and begins explaining why. ''See, this plant is something else. It's effective in many ways, but its main use is to cause hallucinations. This works when the victim is exposed to the smell, and it can't just be from a few feet away, it has to be up in their face. The hallucinations tend to be ones of flying, and many people become frightened by the sight of being way high up in the air and freak out, which causes them to hurt themselves. Stay away from this.''

''Interesting,'' Kaster holds his chin, leaning against the table. ''And that? All the way over there, the holographic root thing... Why is everything else concrete and real, but that's just fake?''

''That is the Mandrake Root, and it will annihilate you if you ever see it growing from the ground. What it is, exactly, is a poisonous herb that belongs to the nightshade family. It contains a couple of chemical constituents that have certain effects on the human body, including hypnosis.'' Poet, Kaster, and I all glance at each other, our eyes widened in shock. ''The worst thing about this plant is that it's living. If it is dug up from the ground, it would scream so loud and horrifyingly that it would pierce the ears of all who hear it – and that resulted in killing them.''

''How do you escape it, or... get away and avoid it? I'm saying, like, is there any possible way to survive if it is dug up and you see it? Could holding your hands pressed against your ears work, or is that useless?''

''The best advice that I can give you is to run.'' The trainer leans his elbow against the table and says, ''These, and this is all I can tell you, are four of the main plants that you'd want to be aware of. For more basic plants and other types of poison, go to the trainers to the left of me. But, let's have a little recap. The two of you seem to know your information due to your frequent questions and understanding,'' he points to Kaster and I. ''But you, tell me which plants are which.''

Poet mumbles, and mistakes Foxglove with Henbane, and the trainer gets upset. ''See that right there? I have an animosity for stupidity and people who don't pay attention. If you were confused, why didn't you speak up?! I hate tributes like you, who waste peoples' times. And you wonder why they all die so early!''

''Hey, leave him alone!'' I slam both my hands against the table. ''He's just unsure, you don't have to be so rude about it! You're here to help him, aren't you? Don't be so unfriendly to a tribute who needs help and isn't a quick learner like the rest of us might be. You make him sound like he's impaired or something!''

'' Maybe he is.'' The trainer crosses his arms over his chest and scoffs. I wanted to do something when he said being headstrong was over-the-top for me, but I didn't. I wanted to gain revenge for him talking down on me like that, but now I really have a reason to do something after he's insulted Poet.

I grab the Henbane from the table and lean in forward, rubbing it against the face of the trainer, and watch as his eyes go dull and his entire body language goes from controlled to confused and scared.

Kaster gazes at me, his eyes wide open and mouth agape, and I chuckle shyly, placing the Henbane back on the table. ''Hey,'' I try to drift away from what just happened, but I notice Poet's mouth agape as well. ''You came over here for a reason, right? What was it? Before learning, I mean...''

''I was just going to ask if you wanted to be allies, since we seemed to get along quite well yesterday,'' he looks back at the trainer. ''You're smart and seem capable of handling yourself, and I just thought it would be cool if you and I could ally. I just think we could work well together.''

''Oh. To tell you the truth, I think we could work well together, too, and maybe take it all the way,'' I agree. ''You knew how to work the crowd yesterday, so I'm sure that you know how to manage yourself.''

We both share a moment of laughter, but then I remember Poet's with me, and I abruptly stop laughing before Kaster does. His laugh faints, and when he looks up, he sees me biting down on my lip.

''Is something wrong?''

''No, it's just that I promised to ally with Poet here,'' I point. ''I don't know if you'd be willing to work with us, so I'm—''

''Of course I'd be willing to work with the both of you together. It would be fun to get to know the two of you better, especially him, and I know that I won't have a problem with either of you.''

I genuinely smile, but then all three of us turn around after hearing the trainer groaning and quietly gasping. Kaster looks back at me, making eye-contact, and I blush.

''Guess you should also know that I'm a lot to handle...''

* * *

 **Zeppelin Cross, District Four**

* * *

Everyone else has gone to do their own thing, while Atlas and I stay to watch this kid introduce himself.

He raises the knife above his head, and with a cry, he shoves it down into the crook of the dummy's neck. Ripping it out, he decides to slash it across its chest, and a waterfall of fake blood pours from the open wound. I notice Atlas glancing at me from the corner of my eye, but I still stare forward, holding onto my quarterstaff.

Hack, hack, _hack._ That's all that I suppose is going through his mind, since he has no tactic whatsoever. He forcefully slams the hilt of his knife into the dummy's temple, then grabs it and places it in a headlock and slams the sharp edge of the knife into its skull.

Panting, the kid throws him onto the floor and wipes away the sweat from his forehead. ''Did you guys like that?'' he asks. ''Just like your type always do in the Games, roughly and brutally and unhesitantly, am I right?''

Staring straight into his eyes, I begin thinking about how much of a purpose he could be to the Careers.

''You're approving of this?'' Atlas leans in and asks me, his eyes narrowed. I shrug my shoulders. ''What's up with you and wanting to give people chances? Is this really that interesting? All he did was hack away at the cloth.''

Turning my head, I glare at Atlas and keep quiet. He holds his hands up and smiles at me. Charming. The thing with this kid is that he's wild, yeah, but he's not someone to be taken lightly. Obviously there's something wrong with him in the head, but there are always tributes like him in the Games.

And they all do well, surprisingly. You'd think a psychopath would be the one tribute that everyone would be aiming to kill, but everyone avoids them and tend to give up whenever they're cornered. ''What's your name, kid?'' I speak up.

''Avery. Avery Billings,'' he says.

Turning around, I grab a tight hold of my quarterstaff and begin walking away. Atlas follows right after me, although I don't know why.

''What's up with you?'' he wonders. I arch an eyebrow. ''I'm just asking. You're the only one willing to give him a chance, but why? You owe us – actually, me – an explanation, since I'm the only one who stood there with you, don't you think?''

''I never asked you to stick with me,'' I bite, tilting my head to the right in order to look mean. ''Besides, you guys might not like him, and I sure as hell don't like him, but Careers always look for the best people to add to the alliance, and he seems fairly capable of helping out the pack.

''Who died and made you leader, huh?'' he asks. ''And, how do you find him capable of helping us out? The kid looks like the type to kill all of us in our sleep.''

''I never said _I_ was leader. Every Career has the option to do as they please, and I wanted to go out and scout early on.''

''Okay, but you still didn't answer the second part of my question.''

''You say that, but doesn't every Career think like that?'' I say, offering him a poker face. ''You know just as well as I do that one of us is gonna be willing to betray the pack sooner or later, so why single him out? You might be thinking about killing us all right now, for all I know.''

Atlas keeps quiet, and I brandish my quarterstaff over his cheek, just to send a message. _Sorry for being rude,_ I want to say, but I can't keep talking to him, or making any sort of interaction with him. He just looks and acts like the type of person that would be easily let in by everyone, and I can't have that.

Forming a bond or a friendship or whatever with him would be the wrong thing to do. I'm just afraid, that maybe – just maybe – if we grow a connection and he gets hurt or something, I'll have to take care of him and show kindness. And that's the exact opposite of what I want to do. I have to stay icy and show them all that I'm not someone to mess with.

To win the Hunger Games is the reason why I Volunteered, because it's all that I have left – it's my ultimate dream, the only thing that keeps me going each and everyday. As I keep walking forward, setting my sights on the battle stations, I stare down at my hands and wonder how much longer I can keep up this façade.

''Zepp, wait,'' I hear Atlas' voice call out. I turn around, suspiciously staring at him. ''Just wondering where you were going. I just thought I'd come along, y'know, since getting to know each other would be beneficial to our alliance.''

Sighing, while shaking on the inside, I answer, ''To the close-ranged weapon station, or the battle station, I guess you would call it. And no, you can find someone else from the alliance to talk to. Why not your District Partner, for example? Or mine.''

Scoffing, Atlas laughs. ''Well, I've already spoken to Sigrid, and I don't really like the idea of speaking to your District Partner. Plus, I'm not sure where they are, anyway.''

''Well, you could always talk to the Ones.''

We both turn around at the same time and see Adonis and Blush sitting down on one of the lunch tables, speaking and laughing as they point at imbecilic tributes who struggle to work with their weapons.

''They look like they don't want to be disturbed,'' he replies. ''Besides, even if I did want to talk to one of the other two, they're both most likely busy and don't want anyone interfering their work.''

''Well, then,'' I sigh, trying to avoid eye-contact.

''Lemme ask you something,'' he grabs my attention. ''Are you really up with this whole wait for the training scores thing to decide the leader? I mean, how is that going to work? We need someone to start talking strategy with us during this time that we have now, not a day or two before we go into the Arena. And, well, I don't mind who's leading, but don't you have any—''

If we were in another situation, I wouldn't mind this conversation, but I do here – I have to. Cocking my head to side to convey a look of nothing but utter disinterest, I interrupt his speaking and say, ''Listen, I don't have time for this. You've got something better to do, and I do as well, so go on and do your own thing.''

I arrive to the close-ranged station, and stand in front of the trainer, who stares down at the quarterstaff in my hand. ''Ah, back again. I thought you weren't interested in anything here and just wanted to hold onto that weapon.''

I simply shrug and watch her facial expressions. ''Hey, you,'' she points at Atlas. ''Did you need something, too, kid? I've been watching you for a while now, and you seem like there's so much you want to do.''

''Well, what could you offer me, honey?'' Atlas winks, resting his arm on the table counter. The trainer giggles, and places her hand on his bicep.

''Aren't you just a breathe of fresh air?'' she smiles. ''Take a look, there are close-ranged weapons all around, and since you're here, I'm assuming that you're an up close and personal type of fighter. What weapon do you specify in?''

''I'd appreciate it if you could hand me a katana.'' The woman hands Atlas his weapon, and he takes hold of it gracefully. It's obvious that he's definitely proficient with this weapon. He turns, looks at me, and chuckles. ''How does this work?''

''I don't know,'' I reply. ''Why don't you ask the trainer that's right in front of you? She works at this station, not me.''

''Wow, what an amicable person you are,'' she says sarcastically. I can't help suppress a derisive smile from forming itself on my face. ''Anyway,'' she says, turning to Atlas, ''what happens here is that you can choose from three options: either you spar with me, practice on the dummies, or choose to fight holograms.''

''I couldn't possibly spar with a beautiful lady like yourself, and I sure don't want to get castigated for it either,'' he drawls. ''And dummies are pretty boring, so let's go with the holograms. Unless... you want to go first, Zepp?''

I wave my hand, passing away his act of friendliness. He simply nods and enters the door that the woman has opened for him to pass by through. He stands straight, poising the katana in his hand, and flashes a sparkling grin at the lady, letting her know that he's ready to start the segment.

After staring, she turns to me and taps on my chest. I ignore her act and stare at Atlas, watching as he raises his katana above his head and swings at a hologram, decapitating it. ''This looks too easy for him, you should put it on Career difficulty.''

''It _is_ on Career difficulty,'' she states. This takes me back, but I hold my position and stare at the boy, realizing how comparable he is to a Victor. ''What's up with you, kid? This obviously isn't the real you, with that whole fake trying-to-be-hard exterior of yours.''

My heart skips a beat, and I feel my body beginning to overheat.

''What are you talking about?'' I glance at her, gripping my weapon tighter. Looking down, I notice how white my knuckles are turning due to grasping the quarterstaff.

''Oh, come on, kid!'' She places her fists on her hips and scoffs. ''You think I haven't seen it before? I've worked here for seven years, and each and every year there's a tribute exactly like you. Always that comely-looking boy who has the tough personality, but nothing good ever ends up happening for him.''

Masking my feelings on the inside, I keep my face in a stony expression and try to stir something up, displaying disingenuous placation in the form of my body language. ''You're talking about Atlas, because I don't think you're referring to me?''

''Cut the shit, Zepp, you know you're smarter than that, and you know I'm right,'' she shakes her head. ''You're acting this way because it's how you're expected to act, the rough and fearless Career who does anything he can to win. There are tributes who have come and gone just like you. Don't be a repeat.''

I press my tongue against my cheek, trying to maintain my jaw from going slack. ''Whatever you say,'' I shrug.

''Don't be like that,'' she groans, flailing her hands up in the air. She turns her head and observes Atlas stabbing his katana into one of the holograms' chest, and elbowing the other one in the jaw as he rips the weapon out and slices the other one's throat. ''You see him? He's got something going – he's handsome, prepared, and has the personality that Capitolites are looking for.''

''And?'' I raise an eyebrow.

''And you, you have the personality that the Gamemakers love; not what the Capitol loves. The Gamemakers will keep you alive, but the Capitol won't benefit you with that unfriendly personality that you possess. They want someone who can hype up the crowd, not be boring and kill with no emotion.''

 _But I do have emotion..._

''What you need to do is take charge, and stop faking everything,'' she shouts, slapping my elbow. ''Do something incredible, like become the Pack Leader! You think that you're hiding your true identity or something by being mean, but it's conspicuous that you're not really like this. You're not as fraudulent as you think you are.''

''If you don't know me, bitch, don't tell me how to work the Games.'' I growl.

''And there it is, the personality again!'' she cheers. ''See, what you should be doing is taking control and showing authority! Instead of wasting your time only trying to fight and show off how good you are, you should be looking for things that will help you in the Arena. You have the fighting down, I believe, so add more things to your skill-set. Stop faking it, Zepp. Just come out of the closet already.''

''What the fuck.''

''Kidding, kidding,'' she chuckles nervously. ''But you understand what I'm saying. You know just as well as I do that this isn't gonna last forever.'' She leans in close to me – uncomfortably close. ''And when it's all over, you're gonna regret that you didn't change sooner.''

''Shut up, why are you even helping me in the first place? I thought you weren't allowed to give the tributes advice.''

''So?'' she laughs. ''Who's gonna catch me? Or is someone gonna overhear this and go snitch on me? It doesn't matter, I'm just giving you a few pointers.''

A timer beeps, and Atlas' obstacle has finished. He waits for the trainer to go open up the door for him, but before she does, she smirks at me flirtatiously.

''Besides, you District Four boys tend to be my favorite tributes. And if I can say anything to make sure that another one doesn't go down early, I'll say as much as I can.''

* * *

 **A/N: Ayeeeee! So here's another update, and I honestly don't have much to say this chapter. Kinda busy, gotta go finish shit up, so quick A/N. Here are a couple of questions!**

* * *

 **Thoughts on each POV?  
**

 **Favorite and least favorite POV?**

 **What would be your strategy for the first training day?**

 **Which tribute in this chapter resembles your reaction (if you'd have to take a guess) would be during this time?**

* * *

 **Anyway, yeah, that's all. If I fucked up your tribute, like usual, let me know. And sorry if there are mistakes, I half-assed rereading this chapter and was very lazy, as you can possibly tell. And if you're confused, yes, alliances were made this chapter. I'll continue updating the blog with each alliance/death that occurs, so keep an eye out on that. So yeah, that's all for now. See you guys next chapter, and thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed. Bye! ^-^**


	11. Progress

**Training Day II:**

* * *

 **Cathodette Lyte, District Three**

* * *

''Come on, hold it closer to your abdomen!'' the trainer abets, encouraging me to get this right. ''No, no, you're messing it up! Go back to step one!''

Staring down, I shake my head in disappointment. She abnegates the piece of rope away from me, and stretches it out, showing signs of frustration because I'm not getting this right. Growling, she begins speaking again, starting all over from the beginning.

''How many times do I have to explain this to you?'' she says, biting down on her cheeks to stop the rage of failure. ''First, you have to— wait, do you even know the name of the type of knot that I'm trying to teach you?''

''Yes,'' I nod my head. ''It's a Bowline Knot, that I know.''

''Good to know that you have a proper memory when it comes to names,'' she rolls her eyes. ''Anyway, first off, you gotta look at the sides: on one side of the rope, you'll have a short end – also known as the 'working' end – and a longer piece on the other side – the 'standing' end. Depending on how large you want your loop to be, the working end needs to be about a foot long, but it can be more.''

I nod my head, remaining undaunted on the outside but trying to remain calm on the inside by keeping my breathing slow and steady. ''You don't talk much, do you?''

I shake my head, refocusing my eyes on the knot in her hands. ''Great, I got one of _those_ tributes,'' she whispers. My eyes remain fixed on the loop that she's forming, although I don't have much of a clue on what she's doing.

My mind is honestly somewhere off, despite how observant I seem to be. I'm just happy that I'm away from my Dad, away from the abuse, away from the alcohol and my crazy mother – I just hope she's doing fine and isn't being replaced in my absence.

But what haunts me the most is the baby and the abortion, and everything else that I had to go through. How he fucked me up, and how much I was pained from it. But... I'm gone now, I can finally be free. Away from him, away from the life I had back in Three. I can say that I've finally _won_.

''Are you even listening to me?!'' she yells. ''You're always in some type of thought process that's away from the matter at hand. What's wrong with you, are you mentally impaired and can't focus properly?''

''Don't you dare call me retarded!'' I groan.

''I was just asking you a question, to know if you were messed up or something, because it seems to me that you're always drifting off into space whenever I'm trying to use my valuable time to help you out!''

Clenching my fists, I hold myself together. _Don't let your guard down, don't let your guard down, don't let your guard down. You can't let her burst through that walls that it took you so long to build!_

''Valuable time?! This _is_ your valuable time, and you're accusing me of wasting it?! You're supposed to be helping tributes out so that they're prepared to go in and win, not complain whenever they don't get something right!''

''Calm down, you're so defensive,'' she states.

Drawing a breath, I force it between my gritted teeth and remain still. I gotta be strong, that much I know. Soon, there won't be time to remain calm and I'll have to fight for my life, so I have to make the most out of my time here. ''Okay, can you just continue, please?''

Before she conjoins the two pieces of rope together, I hear a voice ring out from right behind me. ''Hey, you!'' Turning around, I spot a pretty girl walking towards me, a warm, gleaming smile on her clear face. ''Yeah, you.''

Kneeling once she nears me, she glares up at the trainer, who looks surprised by her sudden reaction, and then looks down at me. She rests her hand on my left shoulder, then smiles at me. There's a bit of tension in me, because I don't know who she is or why she's decided to come talk to me, so I shrug her hand away.

''Just wanted to say that... I've been watching you ever since the Chariot Rides – hopefully that doesn't sound weird, though – and I just wanted to get to know you. Mind if I sit and chill with you?''

''You can stay if you'd like, but with this one, things will get complicated,'' the trainer speaks up for me.

''Great, but did I ask for your opinion?'' the fearless girls stands up, showing bravery and confidence in her slur. ''No, I don't think so, she can tell me herself. When I do ask something that's directly stated to you, then I'd like to hear the irrelevant thoughts that are flowing through your mind.''

''Someone's got a tongue, don't they? Keep talking like that and the continuation of your life won't last very long in the Arena, deciding that someone actually wants to spare your life. Though, with that mouth of yours, I doubt anyone would want to.''

''Say what you want about me, but you won't get the reaction that you're looking for,'' she smiles. ''I don't care what you think, nor will your words change the choice of my actions.''

A laugh escapes my thin lips, causing the sight of focus to be pointed to me. I spot an Eleven on the girl's outfit, and I smile to myself inwardly. ''Ceres Morrisey,'' she says, turning and holding out her hand for me to shake.

I look down at her hand skeptically, pondering over if I should get to know her or not. My mind is telling me no, because of how distant I've been from everyone, but my heart... there's a different feeling to it, like I've met someone that I can actually trust. Like she could be my friend. _Maybe._

My heart's telling me yes, take her hand and shake it, get to know her. Staring up now, the both of our eyes meet and we narrow our eyebrows, but her lips are curled into a friendly smirk. ''I see that you're from District Three?''

''Yes, but she isn't as smart as you'd expec—''

''Yeah, I'm from Three,'' I say, smiling. ''You said you wanted to get to know me, but... I'm not very open, you see – pertaining to anyone, actually. But if you want to talk, that's fine by me. I'm currently in the middle of learning how to tie a Bowline Knot, so you can join in, if you'd like?''

''I'd love that.''

She sits on her knees and pays attention to the trainer, who's now talking about her prior experience with ties, and her stories are actually quite credible. I have no doubt that she does have an abundant amount of knowledge when it comes to this type of stuff.

''Here,'' the trainer says, smiling at us. This is a different turn of events, not gonna lie. She hands both Ceres and I an extra piece of rope each. ''Just follow what I do. I guess it's much easier like that, with a visual representation instead of a verbal one.''

We both nod our heads. I nodded with appreciation, but Ceres... I have no idea, because the look on her face shows everything except for appreciation. From what I can see, she most likely holds a grudge against the Capitol for something. It's none of my business, though.

''Once you make sure that your measurements are correct, you now create a small circle in the standing end of the rope by pinching the rope and folding it down about three inches.'' Ceres and I both follow the instructions, and I get the hang of mine more quickly. Unlike earlier, I'm completely focused on this and have nothing to set me back. ''Look at you, getting a grip on the rope.''

Staring at Ceres, I notice that she's got the hang of it as well. She catches my eye and smiles at me; I smile back, but I'm completely unsure of if I should be trusting her or not. Like I said before, I'm getting two different answers from myself, but I suppose trusting the most important part of your body rather than your mind is the right thing to do?

''Now run the working end of the rope through the loop from the back to the front, and then around the standing end.'' We both get the instructions down properly, me finishing a little bit quicker than Ceres, and stare up at the trainer. ''And the last step is to run the working end through the loop like this... and from the front to the back, pull the knot tightly.''

''I never introduced myself, did I?'' I whisper to Ceres. Finally, but a little bit too late, I grab her hand involuntarily and shake it. ''I'm Cathodette.''

''Nice to meet you, Cathodette,'' Ceres says. ''I know we just met and it might be a bit early, but do you want to, by any chance, ally with me? You don't have to, but I thought you would be the best fit for me. Nothing against the other tributes and all, but, in my opinion, you just look like the only one who knows what they're doing – besides the Careers – and seem put-together.''

Thinking it over, I sit there quietly. Sighing, I come to a decision. Somewhat... ''Well, it depends... How much do you want from me?''

Laughing, Ceres says, ''Not much. I'd just like some company.''

''Then I'm fine with that,'' I say, nodding my head.

''And that's how you make a Bowline Knot! You can do so much with this, but the most effective thing,'' the trainer states, tying the rope around her neck and mocking a choking tribute, ''is strangling someone to death with it.''

There's a meticulous look in Ceres' eyes, and I shiver on the inside. Knowing that that knot could kill me makes me scared, but I gotta stay strong – I gotta keep myself standing high and mighty, to show that I'm not weak and that I can handle myself, too, just like everyone else.

But that comment about me seeming put-together...

She couldn't be anymore wrong.

* * *

 **Sigrid Lapierre, District Two**

* * *

''Since you're ever-so-confused on something that's self-explanatory, we'll explain,'' one of the trainers sighs, directing their tone of voice towards the Seven male. ''You five will be entering the holographic chamber, where an Arena view point will be projected in front of you. All of you will have ten minutes to complete the obstacle course. This will be a practice test to see how quickly you can make it into the Cornucopia, grab your equipment, defend yourself, and get out. You'll all have ten minutes to complete the course; and if you take any longer, you'll be presumed dead. Do you understand?''

Everyone – including me – turns their head to observe the reaction of Seven. He holds his arms up and laces his fingers together behind his head, laughing in a form of incredible confidence. Looking around, he tries to identify which tribute is which, and then he finally rests his gaze upon me, and winks.

I smile back at him genuinely, giving off a polite demeanor. After all, first impressions are always big. ''Oh, you're from Two!'' he exclaims, pretending as if he didn't see the number on my shoulder when we first got here. ''That's so cool!'' I giggle, falsely, though. ''Maybe after this, we can talk..?''

I incline my head, watching as a couple of trainers pick up wooden batons and clubs from the weapons rack and some go over to a control point to begin the course. ''Sure,'' I respond, turning my head back to Seven.

The other tributes in this course are the boys from Five and Eight, and Clarice. She catches my eye, but I look away from her and discern the slothful look in the boy from Eight's eyes. Maybe he's tired? That would explain the somnolent composure that he maintains.

Finally, a robotic voice begins speaking, counting down the numbers until we're allowed to move. _Three.. Two.. One..._ A small blow horn sound effect emits from the top of the chamber, and the room quickly transforms into something different.

Everyone jumps off of their plate except for me, only because I'm lost in my thoughts. All around, there are futuristic artifacts that confuse me. There's just a really big light that leaves a streak high up in the air, and I think it's an airplane, but that would make no sense.

But with the speed that it's traveling at, there's no way it could be a plane, because it disappears within seconds. Snapping myself out of my thoughts, I jump off and sprint forward, passing the boy from Five as he's ambushed by two trainers who appear from thin air.

In front of me, Clarice dodges a trainer swinging a baton at her head. She drops to the floor and hops back up quickly, pacing herself straight into the tent that's supposed to represent a Cornucopia. There's a faint noise coming from behind me, and I look back just in time to catch a trainer sprinting toward me.

She dives to the side and right behind her is that Seven boy again, and now he's spectating. I roll my eyes and sigh, but I don't let him see that. Refocusing myself, I charge forward, ignoring the emphatic sound of stomping feet.

As soon as I reach the inside of the, uh, Cornucopia, I spot wooden weapons on the walls – and Clarice, as well, who picks up a wooden staff and turns around. ''Three minutes,'' she grins. I nod my head and grab a knife and a holographic backpack that I swing over my shoulder, and sprint out of there.

''Give me that!'' I hear behind me. Trying to ignore the noise, I soon give up and take a quick peak when I hear, ''I'm gonna gut you like a fish!''

Clarice is on the floor, struggling with the Five boy as they both try to hold onto a holographic backpack. It's ridiculous, how serious she's acting over an object that's not even substantive – but I guess she's one of those girls who fights for what she wants, and doesn't cease until she gets it.

It's a pity. She's so much lower than me, and it's honestly sad to even look at her. She's like one of those abandoned puppies who are picked up on the streets by random strangers; the ugly and dirty ones that nobody wants to touch or feed or show any sign of sympathy towards – just like all the rest of these tributes.

''Hey, grab him for me,'' she calls out, her voice directed to me. There's a bubbly feeling in my stomach that makes me snicker and turn away from her. She wants my help. Oh, how sad. That, in my opinion, is something that deteriorates your skill. Wanting help is the easy way out, while independence is something to prize and be proud of.

Judging by the grunting from behind and the growl that comes from Clarice's mouth, I'm guessing that the Five boy succumbed to how stubborn she appeared. I don't blame him – I have no sufferance for her, either.

I continue sprinting forward, reaching my destination as soon as a trainer tries to tackle me to the floor. Stepping to the side, I dodge his attack and reach my platform. ''Good job,'' I hear one of the trainers say. ''Only took you four minutes to finish. Head to the back, you'll be let through, unless you want to try again to beat your initial score. If that's the case, just say so.''

''Thank you,'' I say, shaking my head as I walk forward and place both of my hands on my hips. A trainer waits at the door of the chamber and lets me out as soon as I approach him. He smiles at me and pats me on the back, an act of friendliness that I return by nodding my head in appreciation.

I look around the Training Center, trying to see if I can spot anyone who I find formidable. But unfortunately, I do not. Everyone is sauntering the room, searching for an ally. It must be hard for all of them, not being able to take care of themselves and having to be dependent on others to survive.

 _What a shame._

Taking this time to catch my breathe and cool down the sweating by standing still in the cool air conditioning, I close my eyes and think to myself. _Who's gonna lead us? What's our Arena strategy? Are you committed to this alliance?_

With the first two questions, I have no idea. But the last question, I know for a fact that my answer is a no. There's no loyalty in this alliance, anyone can clearly see that. None of us have the Career-type relationship that would allow us all to last long in the Arena.

So far, I've seen none of us get along besides the Ones, who only make fun of other tributes and openly share their disgust for them. Most likely, they'll be the ones to end the alliance and screw us over, the ones to betray us as quickly as they possibly can – and I know for a fact that I'm not falling for that, not after all that's happened.

A couple of minutes go by after I remove myself from the Training Center to go get a sip of water by the water fountains out in the halls. A tap places itself on my shoulder, and I turn to see the sweaty form of that boy from Seven, again. ''Hey,'' he says.

''Hey, how are you?'' I ask.

''Good, I guess, but it's not about me right now,'' he states. I want to roll my eyes, but I also want to be nice to him. He's so much lower than I am, and his confidence is underwhelming. I don't get why he has that smile on his face, or why he thinks he can grin like that and cross his arms as if he's superior to anyone, because he sure as hell isn't superior to me. He's like a cockroach that I would stomp on and kill in the matter of seconds.

''It's about you.'' He leans in closer, in a dramatic fashion, and supports himself up by holding his arm against the edge of the water fountain, his dirty, sweaty hands smearing the thing. ''Right now, I think it's about you. Seriously, what you did out there was amazing. How did you manage to pull that off in four minutes? It was incredible!''

Waving my hand, I throw him off. ''Oh, it was nothing, really.''

He laughs and now _tries_ to greet himself. Holding out his hand, he says, ''The name's Fitz, and I was wondering if you'd be willing to spend some time together?'' Oh, wow, what charm. Not sure what he means by that, because that can mean multiple things, but he should go into more detail to clear up all the ambiguity.

''Actually, she's quite busy right now, Fidan, so I'd suggest you—''

Clarice appears from nowhere. _Yay, now she's here..._ ''I'd suggest you don't call me Fidan.'' Fitz, er— Fidan, doesn't let her finish? Nah, Fitz. It's Fitz.

''Oh, and what are you gonna do about it, _Fidan_?'' I don't know what he was thinking, but Fitz throws a punch at Clarice, and I swear it's gonna hit with the motion of his arm, but he completely trips over himself by stumbling forward and ends up crashing against the wall.

Tilting my head to the right, I cover my eyes with my hand in the form of a face palm and look away. All I hear is the noise of Fitz's feet as he crawls away from Clarice in what I can only imagine to be embarrassment. Clarice is just killing herself right now, laughing her ass off with slight tears in her eyes.

''What is it?'' I ask, interrupting her laughter. She holds her hand out to tell me to hold on, but I don't have time for this. ''Seriously, I have no time to be waiting on you to stop laughing.''

I don't know why, but Fitz peers back at me like I'm supposed to help him or back him up or something. These tributes really are too dependent. Sure, I may have been nice to him and someway agreed to socialize with him, but I could care less about him.

At the end of the day, he's gonna be one of those faces in the sky that lets me know that I'm one more death closer to winning the Games when we officially start them. Right now, this is just child's play.

She finally manages to pull herself together. ''Alright, so I saw your skill, and I must say that you're talented.'' I give her a look, gesturing my arms forward to silently tell her that I want her to get on with it already. ''And, well, nobody in our alliance are really friends, you see? You and me, though, I think we could work together and maybe be the power houses of the alliance.''

 _She's lying,_ I think to myself. ''No, I'm good,'' I deny her request. ''I like working on my own.''

''What?!'' she shouts. ''Why the hell not? I'm personally asking you to have a secret truce with me because I _WANT_ you and me to go far. How dare you say no? Do you know how much we could do together?!

''Because you're lying,'' I deadpan, giving her a death glare. ''For a girl from Four, you're more intelligent than I thought you would be.''

''Excuse me? What type of backhanded compliment is that?!''

''See, most of them would approach others head on and try to say something stupid, but you at least tried to be slick about it,'' I sigh. ''You think I don't know that you're after me because you think I'm the easiest target? Why would you be interested in me when you could easily choose Adonis to pick off, or even Atlas? It just doesn't make sense, and I know that I can't trust you. Your loyalty is about as thick as the overall I.Q. of your District citizens.''

She grits her teeth. ''Your generalization isn't even a bit veiled, like I thought you'd want it to be, but I understand your point.''

''Just like I understand that—''

''I wish you would shut up, because you know you've already fucked up, right?'' Clarice growls.

''I wish I could be as confident as you and wear my training outfit like that,'' I chuckle, eyeing her up and down. She clenches her fists but holds herself back as she brings them up to her hair and ties it in a quick bun. ''You should really keep your hair like that, it makes you look smart, and it might even allow you to make better decisions. Your approach wasn't _that_ bad, but maybe it'll be better next time – with someone else, of course.''

''You're dead,'' Clarice stomps.

''Last time I checked, I was still alive and kickin'.''

''Nah, as soon as we hit that Arena, you're getting what's coming to you,'' she smiles sickly-sweet. ''I want you dead, and I'll make sure that you end up that way. You think you can talk to anyone like that and get away with it? This isn't a game anymore, sweetie.''

Shrugging, I flip my hair over my shoulder to brush it away from my moist face and smile. ''A little bit of banter is never a bad thing. Maybe that's why you decided to come talk to me. Everyone else was a failed option because you're easily butt hurt and couldn't take it, isn't that right?''

''Bite me, bitch.''

* * *

 **Adonis DiMae, District One**

* * *

Blush and I sit at the huge mahogany table that takes up most of the vast space that the dark end of the Training Center offers. There's tablecloth left out, basically daring others to ruin the perfectly varnished shine with their own unworthy fingerprints.

I yawn, showing my tiredness as I sit back and watch the other tributes saunter around the area, carefully searching for activities to take part of and other tributes to ally with. I'd sit back and do this all day if I had the chance to, but sadly, there's only a limited amount of time before I must go.

There's this one specific tribute, though, who I've had my eye on the entire time. He's revitalized the entire area of the Training Center, making it interesting instead of boring and dull. I don't know what his plan is, but he's obviously up to no good, judging by the way he walks and looks around.

''What do you think of him?'' I ask Blush, turning my head to her and pointing at the direction of the tribute. She looks up, a smug and mean look on her face as she lets out an exasperated sigh that displays a look of annoyance and disinterest. ''I don't know what to think about him. I haven't figured out his entire story yet, or what he's plotting, but he looks interesting, don't you think? Maybe someone who could provide for us?''

''Him? You're kidding, right? He's the type of tribute that we'd all devour in the matter of seconds in the Games,'' she advocates. Flipping her hair to the side, she adds, ''Plus, when were you the scouting type? I thought you were different, Adonis DiMae. You really aren't just an ignorant pretty boy, but you're not the most favorable, either.''

I let out a small chuckle. ''You're one to talk. Are you saying that you're a definite favorite of most people around here, including your own Mentor?''

''Of course!'' She looks offended. ''Have you not seen me? The body, the hair, the face, the teeth, the attitude, _and_ the body. Who wouldn't see me as a favorite? I'm someone that will go far, and you know why?''

''Please inform me why,'' I roll my eyes.

''Because I'm fucking fabulous,'' she cheers. ''F-A-B-U-L-O-U-S – fabulous! Something you'll never be, because you don't know how to stop relaxing.''

''Yes, maybe so, but you also forgot that not being such a serious bitch like you has gotten me where I am today; the top District One trainee, and a proud Volunteer who has his eyes set out for a special prize.''

''Wow, so you're District One's best trainee, good for you,'' she says sarcastically. ''You're forgetting that hundreds of top Volunteers from One have lost their lives the same exact way you will. And yeah, it got you here, but where's it gonna take you?''

''Back home.''

''No,'' she corrects. ''Dead. You're gonna be dead soon.''

''You're just a ray of sunshine, aren't you, honey?'' I drawl. This girl, I swear... She's something else, probably the only person who I could be so tolerable towards. I don't know, but I feel something for her, and it's kinda awkward and nice at the same time. Maybe this is how she feels with Gari, I don't know, but we'll see where this takes me.

It's definitely a fault, though. I swore to Aphro that I would kill Blush in the Arena for taking her undeserved spot, but now, I'm not sure if I can do that. We haven't known each other for long, but I can say with all the confidence in the world that the two of us have the strongest relationship, connection, and bond in this entire facility.

''Of course I am,'' she breathes. Just when I think I'm gonna get a break from her, she leans in closer to me and slams her fists onto the table in the most commanding way possible and says, ''Feed me my lunch.''

I tilt my head to the side, looking at her as if she was crazy, and say, ''Quit playing.'' She puts on a playful smirk and brings her hands up to her mouth and says the same line again. ''How demanding could you possibly get?''

''Not very commanding, but I'll show you how to do it,'' she snaps. She grabs my hand forcefully and makes me hold the silver platter towards her. There's a piece of warm bread with a slab of melting yellow butter and a thick, hearty slice of roasted pork on the plate, and with no pretentious manners, she stabs the pork with a fork, places it in my hand, and opens her mouth wide and points.

I should shove the fork into her mouth and smile gracefully as she almost chokes on her own food, but I guess that's just not the type of person I am. She loses patience and takes a bite herself, ripping a chunk of the pork off with her teeth. ''How eloquent,'' I say. ''Thought you were raised by only the most wealthiest people in our District?''

''Yeah, well, who says you can't let loose and have a little bit of fun every once in a while?'' She shrugs her shoulders, laughing as I carry out her commands, only to drop the fork on ''accident'' and have the butter splash all over her face.

''Oops.''

''You're pathetic!'' She wipes her face off with a napkin and tosses it at me. We sit still for a couple of minutes, but then something interesting seems to catch her eyes. She points towards the direction of the... Five girl, who's trying her hand at using a simple knife.

Just by the way she's holding it irks me. She swings it forward, trying to attack a trainer, but she misses wildly only because of her posture and form – and when I say she misses, she almost slices her own cheek open.

''What the fuck is that idiot doing?!''

''I don't know, but it's ridiculous. If she ever gets into a fight – which is likely, because, duh – she's either gonna end up stabbing herself or completely fucking up.''

''Yeah, obviously. Just look at the way she's holding the knife. It's supposed to be held one-handed, but she has both gripped around it, and one of them is on the blade! From her poise, you can tell that she's right handed, so her left foot should be held forward instead of her right. The most simple way to hold the knife would be for her to have her thumb pressed against the back of the blade to support a cut, and when practicing, it looks like she'd be giving a thumbs up.''

Blush nods her head. I continue, though. ''Or, if she was having trouble with that, she could hold it in a more comfortable and effective way. Like, by using the ice pick grip position and holding the blade ninety degrees to the forearm so that she could have a cutting edge-in or edge-out position.''

''I know, but don't be such a prick about it,'' Blush decides. ''If she doesn't understand how to use the knife, then what problem does that create for us? We're Careers, we know how to use a knife, and if she doesn't, that just means it'll be easier to pick her off and smile once her face lights up in the sky at night.''

''Yeah, but that's the thing,'' I shake my head. ''Being Careers, it's such an annoying feeling when some idiot does something so simple incorrectly and expects the maximum results. I know how to use a knife like that and it took me five minutes before I got the hang of it, so why should it take her two days? That's embarrassing.''

''Yes, I suppose so, but forget about her,'' Blush hoists herself up from the table, leaving her unfinished plate of food there. ''Anyway, it was a good chat, but I'm going back to our District Floor. Gotta piss off Gari just for the fun of it, y'know? Don't bother coming up to the floor, this is kinda personal and _private_ , okay?''

''Whatever,'' I look away, pretending as if I don't care.

''What's wrong with you? Are you jealous that I'm spending more time annoying the living shit out of Gari rather than chilling and relaxing and being so close to _you?_ ''

She tiptoes closer to me, until she's standing right in between my elevated legs on the table counter and our noses are inches from touching. I feel warm on the inside, kind of intimidated, but liking this all at the same time, but I don't let her see that.

''No,'' I spit. ''I could care less who you spend time with. It's just nice having company.''

''Yeah? Well, I guess I'll be spending more time with you from now on since you only want 'company','' she winks. ''I'll see you around, kid. Don't miss me too much.''

She blows a kiss and goes on her way.

''Wait,'' I call out. She turns around, an eyebrow raised in confusion. ''When are you gonna tell me about the beef that you and Gari have? I won't be alive forever, so I wouldn't mind knowing the deepest secrets of my own District Partner.''

She laughs out loud, not even minding how high her voice is raised. ''I'll tell you sometime soon. Maybe later today, maybe tomorrow, maybe even after my session with Gari, I don't know. But you'll understand soon enough. But you gotta promise to tell me about that pendant that you're holding and what it's for.''

''Fine by me.''

Smiling to myself, I stare at the area that three of the Careers are stationed at. Atlas is chatting with Clarice, who looks grumpy – no surprise there – and Zeppelin is observing the District Three boy who drags a sword on the floor, approaching them.

He picks it up swiftly, despite his inane sense of actions that indicate that he's idiotic, though I feel that there's something different about him. When he finally reaches all three of them, he looks around and asks where the other Careers are, but gets no answer. The boy from Ten creeps up right behind him, resting his chin on the boy's shoulder.

The Three boy looks uncomfortable but he says, in a loud enough tone for me to hear, ''Can I join the Careers?'' I lean in, now interested in what's going to happen. He then proceeds to list multiple reasons why he's the perfect fit to be in the alliance, including his intelligence – which is honestly quite debatable – and the things that he could provide.

The Ten boy then interrupts and starts cackling. Clarice questions him, which is never a surprise, and asks when he was ever part of the alliance and why he sticks around. Everyone is just quarreling, and it's noisy as fuck but fun. Zeppelin finally steps in and sets his foot down, staring at Clarice in a positive but assertive way.

''I'm the leader of this alliance, I need all of you to understand that,'' he cracks his neck. ''We do not have time worth wasting, and someone has to take charge, and I've put it upon myself to be your leader. No, I'm not bossy; no, I'm not demanding; no, I will not give you everything that you want. What I will give you is strategy to discuss and new talent to acquire into the alliance, so I've decided that Avery here will now be part of the Careers.''

Clarice looks dumbfounded, but she stands up high, like she's holding respect for Zepp. They are District Partners after all, and sometimes, I do question their relationship. They look like close friends, but they don't act like it, and that's very, very disturbing.

'' _But_ , if Avery isn't able to keep up with our expectations, there will be no mercy to eradicate him from the alliance,'' Zeppelin says. Now he turns the the Three boy. ''Give him a chance to show us what he's got. Just one warning, though: don't waste our time.''

With that, Zeppelin sits down on one of the benches and Clarice takes a seat next to him. They both keep whispering to each other, not allowing anyone else to enter their state of mind besides each other.

I just have a feeling that they're up to something. I know that they'll definitely help us out in the long run, but those two have never been the most comfortable people to be around. For all we know, she could be brainwashing Zeppelin right now; I doubt it, but it's always a possibility.

But one thing is for sure – we have our leader. I'm not sure how Sigrid will feel about this, but Blush won't like it.

''Sigrid! Adonis!'' I hear our names called out. I look across the room to see Sigrid at the athletic station, and she stares back at me. Ha, funny, isn't it? Maybe that's just us Careers, always knowing where one another are. ''Come here!''

Well, I guess we found what we were looking for all along. Nothing bad could come from this, right? We all do trust each other enough to support this decision and not make it complicated...

Right?

* * *

 **Ocelot Harrien, District Twelve**

* * *

I feel at home.

Being in the same room as all these Capitolites is amazing itself – even with the company of the rest of these cockroaches in here – but being able to speak to them is something that I want to relish upon sometime soon.

I want to be just like these people and live an incredibly lavish lifestyle. How do they do it? How are they so fabulous? Maybe it's a secret, but what I know for sure is that I feel right at home, like I'm surrounded by the people who I was born to be with.

''First thing's first, you have to have a proper stance,'' the Capitolite says. ''Your stance is very important in combat; it is the foundation of which you are able to maneuver and engage. To have a proper stance, your weight should be more even between your feet. Rest your weight on the balls of your foot with your front knee slightly bent and your elbows at the side.''

Following the instructions, I do exactly as I'm told and clutch the dagger close to me. ''Good, good, you're getting a hold of this,'' the Capitolite states. She walks behind me and wraps her hands around my arms. ''But when you're holding the knife, keep it away from your body. Remember, when using a dagger, you should have a mobile stance, meaning that you're always moving, and if you're always moving, mistakes can be made and you could accidentally puncture yourself. You don't want that to happen, do you?''

''No, Ma'am, I do not,'' I respond kindly. ''So, I should only hold the dagger with one hand and have my assisting hand at my side for any dangerous problems, right? Like, in case my opponent is attacking me, I should be able to grab their arm with my opposite hand and then go in for an attack, is that correct?''

''Yeah!'' she cheers, amused by my intelligence. ''You're from Twelve, aren't you? Have you done this before? I've never met a tribute from Twelve who knew so much.''

''No, I haven't done this before,'' I answer. If we were back in Twelve, I would keep my mouth shut and never say another word again because I know I'd get beaten to a pulp. I'd just nod my head and turn away, but I'm finally home and able to open up. ''In fact, nobody in Twelve has. Those indigent fools only know how to use their fists for attacks, and it's not even proper as well. It's just swing, swing, swing until you hit something for them, and they believe that they know everything.''

''Oh?'' She lets go of her hold on me and places a hand on her waist. ''Once again, I've never met anyone from Twelve like you before. Most tributes who come in here from your District are always grumpy, vengeful, and full of spite. You're unique; I like you, kid.''

''Thank you, Ma'am. I enjoy being in your presence and in such a beautiful place. _Home_ , is what I like to call the Capitol,'' I smile. ''You guys are just the best, and I hate how those onerous pigs continue to oppose you guys.''

''You're forgetting something, though: they may oppose us, but when everything's said and done, who's losing their lives in their pitiful attempts to stop us?'' she grins, puckering her lips.

We share a long-lasting moment of laughter. I've never been more happy in my life – and yeah, I'm going into the Hunger Games, but right now, my focus is on the Capitolites that are around me. I'm learning from her and the rest of these wonderful people.

''I never caught your name. I'm Ocelot. Ocelot Harrien,'' I hold my hand out, introducing myself.

''It's nice to meet you, Ocelot,'' she says. ''I'm Armani Castenada. If I'm being honest, it's nice to get to meet a tribute like you every once in a while. It takes away from all the patriotic Careers who always come in here with the same old excuse, and from all the other stereotypical tributes who are always upset.''

''I can relate to that; everyone in Twelve is either someone trying to smuggle bread and sell some useless item, or it's either bullies who are looking to cause trouble because they have nothing else better to do with their time, unfortunately.''

She snickers. ''You know, Ocelot, you could fit extremely well with us Capitolites.'' My heart thumps and the pulse rate exceeds what's normal.

''R-Really?! You mean that?!''

''Of course I mean it,'' she grins. ''It's not every day that I find a tribute who I know I could be friends with, despite their age. You may be one of the youngest tributes here, but you sure are much more mature than I could have ever possibly imagined. I wonder how you deal with those slobs back in Twelve.''

''I tend to just ignore those ignorant little runts. I keep my opinions to myself because the beatings just aren't worth it. They're all basic, boring, and annoying. Sometimes I want to curse them out, to snap at them and let them know a couple of things before they pound my face in, but it's never worth it.''

''Well, I can certainly tell that you've been holding back quite a bit.'' I nod my head. ''What about your District Partner, is she tolerable?''

''I... I don't know, she seems alright,'' I shrug. ''She's nice, maybe a little bit too nice, but she's caring and friendly. I used to think differently about her _before_ I got to know her, but now she's alright.''

''Ocelot!'' I hear Ceres's voice shout. Turning around, I spot her approaching me, a smile plastered on her childish face.

When she finally arrives to my area, I turn to Armani and shake my head slowly, only wanting to have a conversation with her. ''Not now, Ceres,'' I say, making sure not to groan. Complaining is for the faulty, not for the proper.

''Come on, don't be so bitter, Ocelot, let's allow her to join the conversation,'' Armani nudges my shoulder. ''I'm sure it'd be nice. Let's just see where this goes.''

''Fine...''

''So, as we continue, how do you feel about your status in the District, with all the bullies and other people around?''

''I'm _superior_ to them,'' I say, crossing my arms and puffing out my chest. Armani laughs, and Ceres stares at me in confusion. Raising my eyebrows, I speak up again. ''See, maybe not in physical strength or in District status, but all of that should be disregarded, in my opinion. What they lack in intelligence, I surpass them in, so when the going gets rough and an opportunity rises for us to leave District Twelve, I'll be the one to take it, not them.''

''That's sorta rude,'' Ceres says, sighing. ''You shouldn't say things like that, even if they are true.''

''What does it matter to you what I say?'' I snarl, being just a bit crude. Armani looks pleased by our interaction, but I don't know why.

''Because I'd like my ally to be someone who's polite and doesn't speak rudely about others, like the boy I know you can be.''

''Oh, my God, you two are adorable!'' Armani says. ''Aw, this is so cute!''

I stop for a couple of seconds, and my brain overflows with thoughts. _Allies? Since when were we allies? I mean, having allies in the Games would be a good idea, and the probability of us lasting longer together is quite higher than us being alone, so why not? But with Ceres? Can I afford to be with her? She's the only one who's likely going to take me, and—_

''I know what you're thinking: 'When were we ever allies?' But, just hear me out for a second, please,'' she smiles shyly. ''Calieh and Joydin pulled me aside when we got down here, and they encouraged me to speak to you and ask that we be partners.'' _Why would they do that?_ ''They said that we needed to be realistic. It's not that other people wouldn't take us as allies, but with the groups of tributes this year, it's unlikely, and we – as District Partners – would have much better chemistry being together than with others.''

Gotta hand it to them, their reasoning is legit. I've had the same thoughts at times, whenever I scoped out the Training Center to see if anyone here could be a potential ally. Most of them would probably shun me away and tell me that I'd be no use for them.

But with Ceres, I guess I'd have a chance, maybe? Gulping the dry spit on the roof of my mouth, I hesitantly open up my mouth, not sure if I'm going to agree with the logic or not – even if it is accurate – but then a trainer yells something out.

''HEY, YOU!'' We all turn around simultaneously, only to spot the District Three guy running away from a couple of trainers with a sword in his hand.

It's a weird sight, and I'm not quite sure why they're chasing after him until it hits me that the sword he's holding is on fire. There's a huge grin on his face, showing just how much he's enjoying this, and the Careers, who are watching him, are laughing and spectating from far away.

They probably sent him to do this as part of initiation or something. I don't think they'd be having this reaction if they didn't.

How he got the sword on fire, I will never know. But he's not an idiot. Not like how everyone thought he was back during the Chariot Rides. But if these are the tributes that I'm gonna be around, maybe allying with Ceres isn't even a bad idea...

He pushes through other tributes and trainers, and then makes his way in front of the upset District Eight boy. Throwing his hands up as a reaction, he lets out a high-pitched shriek and drops to the floor, as the Three boy just makes his way to hover over him.

Finally, he gets tackled after minutes of running around and causing trouble. He's being scolded at, and everyone's staring at him. Literally, not a single pair of eyes isn't looking at this guy, and he's enjoying the attention.

Through the corner of my eye, though, I spot the District Eleven girl approaching the Eight boy and saying something to him. Great time to recruit an ally, I suppose... He looks up at her, a look of fear in his eyes, but he quickly shakes it off and gets up.

She grabs his hand but he slaps it away, so she says something. I don't know what it was, but it got him to shut up and now he's following her.

The power that a girl has over a guy never ceases to amaze me. The two of them approach the District Three girl, and now they're introducing each other. I guess you can call that the formation of an alliance, including the Three boy being with the Careers now. If he's not with them, then I don't know what to say. But it's a clear picture to paint out that the Three and Eleven girls are allied with the Eight boy.

Everyone is already making progress, and I'm still here, weighing out my options. But in the end, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to ally with Ceres.

''Fine, fine, I'll be your ally,'' I agree.

Her face lights up with joy, and I want to roll my eyes, but I know better not to. Because who knows what could happen?

Maybe these two children can brew up a storm.

* * *

 **A/N: Ayee! Long time no see, yeah, almost been a month since this story last updated? I don't know, don't really care, as long as this chapter's out, I'm fine with it. Yeah, been really lazy but also busy at the same time, and even when I did get the chance to write, I would play it off and convince myself that I had a headache and just didn't wanna write. But yeah, that doesn't matter rn. Anyway, I got super lazy towards the end when writing this. That's a common theme for me, getting lazy towards the end of every chapter, so excuse my... whatever you call it. Anyway, I'm kinda doing writing these long ass chapters. Ya boy gets tired af and not only do these take too much time to write, but proofreading them also gets annoying and very irritating when you gotta do it twice because you know you fucked up the first time, so I'm definitely gonna cut down the word lengths. Hopefully none of you mind that. I doubt you will, because these probably take a while to read for y'all as well, idk.  
**

 **But, I think with that, chapters will be coming out quicker now because, y'know, less words, so yeah. :D Uh, not really much else to say, besides; If you're looking for a SYOT to submit to, you should DEFINITELY check out jakey121 and Jalen Kun's new collab SYOT story: Friendly Fire. It's on Jake's account, and Jalen's got a really good feeling about this story, and I think a lot of others do, too, me included, so yeah, check it out, submit, let em know who sent you there. Or not, doesn't matter, but yeah, go read it and submit, you'll love it, trust me. Also, both of them are like, 100% amazing authors, so together, just imagine. Go enjoy yourselves over in their story. That's really about all that I have to say, so questions.**

* * *

 **Opinions on each POV?**

 **Favorite POV? Least favorite?**

 **Who do you think might be in an alliance together? (If you don't know who's together, go check out the blog.)**

* * *

 **Yeah, not proofreading this A/N, excuse my mistakes, as usual, but that's all for now. Hope you all have a wonderful day, night, whatever time it is over there for you. And I'll see y'all next time, bye! ^-^**


	12. What Were You Expecting?

**Training Day III:**

* * *

 **Blush Belfleur, District One**

* * *

''Are you upset?'' I tease Gari, strutting around the main area of our apartment. ''Do my words make you uncomfortable? Are you flustered?''

''Kind of,'' he says. ''You're an extremely annoying bitch who knows how to get under anyone's skin. I'm surprised you haven't been kicked out of the alliance yet.''

Laughing out loud, I grab a lock of my own hair and toss it over my shoulder. The open blinds allow incandescent and illuminating lights to brighten the form of my body, making me shine even brighter than I already do. ''Kick me out? You thought! They would never dare do that, I'm _everything_ to that alliance.''

''You're the most tiring person I've ever had to deal with, you know that?'' he asks. Lifting himself up with the support of the arm chair that he was currently resting on, he shakes his head and says, ''What could they possibly want from you? You're probably the most impotent one out of all of them.''

''Or so you say,'' I quickly retort.

''Whatever!'' Gari snaps, scratching the top of his head. ''Don't you have somewhere to be?! Why are you still here, what do you want from me?''

His words make a gleaming, sadistic smile spread across my face. ''Now... Now we're getting to the good part.'' Slowly approaching him, I push him back down onto the chair and slap his hands off of the arms; then I replace where his hands were with my right leg up, our bodies incredibly close. ''I want you to understand that _I'm_ going to win this thing, whether it's with your help or not.''

''Uh huh, you're gonna get far without my help because you're experienced, right? You don't even understand the dire situation that you're in.''

''What the hell can you do about it?!'' I shout. I've never seen Gari falter as much as he has when I raise my voice at him. This past hour of me taunting him has really done its damage. Much to his chagrin, he's losing at his own game. After a moment of silence, he coughs, keeps quiet, and gives me the upper hand – and this is how it always goes when I verbally battle with someone. ''That's what I thought.''

Unexpectedly, his lips brush against mine. Not innocently – not at all – like a tease, but hot, fiery, passionate and demanding. I really want to pull away before I lose myself but I can't seem to... In this minty moment, my senses are seduced and I can't even think straight.

''Blush,'' Gari whispers slowly, prolonging each letter of my name as if to savor it. My lips quiver as I try not to smile, my heart fluttering at the sound of his voice as I clasp my hands on either side of his face. ''I missed this.''

''M-Me, too,'' I admit. The course of action has changed so quickly, I wasn't expecting to go down this road. _Might as well take advantage of it._ Gari basically hauls me up and holds me up by my waist with one hand, using his other hand to stroke my cheek.

It's such an erotic position, though I can't help but smile.

''Listen, a lot of mistakes were made in the past, I'll admit that,'' he says, ''but I can make it up to you. With my help, I promise that a lot can be done. Your safety in these Games is guaranteed with me around, don't forget that.''

Lifting my chin up and staring deep into my eyes, he chuckles. ''Remember, with me around, anything's possible. I'm basically second-in-command when it comes to this pathetic country of ours.''

Keeping my mouth closed, I hold him closely and place my head on the crook of his neck, keeping my face away from his line of sight. It's extremely hard for me to keep my body from shaking, as I'm trying extremely hard to hold in my laughter.

It's funny how boys work; one moment you're fighting with them, the next moment you offer yourself up to them – whether accidentally or not – and their entire perspective of you changes. How disgusting. But, oh, it's just manipulation at its finest. You do something so minimal that makes their hormones go crazy and then you get what you want.

After all, do what you need to in order to get ahead.

* * *

 **Beckett Leighton, District Five**

* * *

The targets in front of me all line up in order of shortest to tallest, then they separate and go off in their own direction. I hold the machete in my hand extremely close to me, to the point where it could pierce through my chin if I had some sort of spasm with my hands.

I'm in this holographic chamber thing. With the control keys, the trainer outside changes the clear scenery into an arid one. It's extremely dry, and incredibly bright sun causes sweat to trickle down the side of my cheek. Unfortunately for me, the bright sun causes me to take my sight off of the three holograms.

From my peripheral vision, I see one hologram jump straight at me with a spear in hand, aiming for my collarbone. I guess reactions take over and I throw myself back, eyeing each direction, trying to make sure that another hologram doesn't try to sneak up on me.

But how ironic, that as soon as I say that, the shortest one literally appears right in front of my face and grabs my shirt, brings its head down onto my forehead and pushes me back. My feet eerily skid across the dirty rubble, and blindly, I swing my sword and manage to hit _something_.

Peering up, I spot my machete sinking in right beneath the hologram's heart. As it begins dissipating, it shoots its arms up and holds onto my machete, not allowing me to remove the weapon from its tight grip. It doesn't matter, though, because I completely abort the machete and begin dodging left and right as the last hologram that didn't attack begins swinging a dagger at me.

I hold my hands up, like I'm trying to compromise with them – but then I realize that I'm not in the Arena yet and that these aren't living, breathing tributes. Something hits my left shoulder, though, and it begins burning like hell. Hesitantly turning around, I spot a spear protruding through my shoulder.

My mind goes into autopilot, and despite the burning, excruciating pain, I run forward, while the opponent is still holding the spear in its hands, and rip my body away. Maybe it was by accident, but I drop to the floor as soon as I hear a whirling sound and barely manage to avoid the soaring spear.

It's like nothing actually happened, because as soon as I look up, the target that threw the spear is hovering over me, dagger in hand. These Capitolites program these things to be heartless... It literally just killed it's co-operative partner and the only thing that was on its mind was to grab a weapon.

Closing my eyes, I let out a deep breath and just wait for this to end. A siren goes off and a robotic voice starts repeating the word 'Dead'. The trainer from before quickly marches in here, lifts me up to my feet, and starts scolding me. She has no limitation, though, and unlike most people, she's not hiding the fact that she doesn't like me.

''You're ridiculous! Why would you just drop to the floor like that and take it?! Do you not want to live?! My job is to help you, and it seems like everything I've taught you these past three days has been for absolutely nothing!''

I don't say anything, but instead keep my mouth shut and grin. It looks like she's boiling up on the inside. Maybe it's because I'm not stooping to her level and reacting the way she wants me to, so that's causing her to... react.

''You're weak!'' she yells, poking my chest forcefully. ''You show no sign of wanting to survive at all, and you're just so... irritatingly calm! I've wasted too much of my time _trying_ helping you, just get out!''

Keeping my cool, I walk out of the chamber just as she instructed. She's upset, which would make me want to compromise with her, but I honestly just don't have the time for that. I tried, and maybe I just have to try harder. My reaction time wasn't perfect, but I did the best I could.

She probably talks crap about me behind my back to the other trainers, and I honestly wouldn't be surprised if she did. _Of course she does! She's gonna be rooting for you to die, Beck. You even heard her, you wasted her time when she could've been helping a more sophisticated and productive tribute. You're just a joke!_

Clutching my fist, I try to stop my body from trembling. I'm not gonna cry, and I'm not gonna let people on and see that I'm upset, so I keep walking forward, despite not seeing where I'm going. My head's facing the ground, and I just don't know what to think.

I accidentally bump into someone and stumble backwards. Looking up, I begin apologizing. ''Sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen. My mistake for not looking at where I was going.''

''Oh, it's no problem at all!'' the boy says, a little bit too enthusiastically. I'm not familiar with him, but I gotta say that his hair stands out. ''I was the one who was actually approaching you. I wanted to come ask you something after observing you for a while. Hope that doesn't sound too weird...''

We both begin chuckling together. Waving my hands, I say, ''No, no, it's not weird at all, I get you. What was it that you wanted to ask me?''

''Well, first off, I guess I should introduce myself, right?'' He holds his hand out and begins speaking again. ''I'm Poet, from Six. Secondly, holy crap, your teeth are perfectly white! I've never seen someone with teeth as shiny as yours! You could honestly be a Capitolite because of that one trait of yours.''

''I'm Beckett, from District Five, and thanks!'' I laugh. ''And I suppose, but really, thanks for the compliment. But... you said that there was something you wanted to ask me. I don't mean to sound impatient, but what was it again?''

''Oh, my bad!'' he says. ''Well, I wanted to ask if you would be interested in joining an alliance with my partners and I? Currently, we have three people – me, my District Partner, and the Eleven boy – and we'd love to add one or two more people. Unless you have another alliance, then that's fine.''

''No, no, I'd love to join your alliance!'' I say, a little bit too quickly. I didn't even give myself a second to think about the offer, but I do prefer being around people. It gives me a safe haven to get away from my thoughts.

''Really? Great!'' Poet cheers. ''Come on, follow me, I'll introduce you to them. Oh, and I saw the trainer yelling at you. Don't worry about her, she's just salty that her hair isn't as puffy as she'd like it to be. You did well against those three holograms, but now you have people with you, so you won't be alone if anything similar to that happens. Okay?''

A small smile spreads across my face, and I'm overwhelmed with delight. I haven't been my usual playful, sarcastic self today, so this is a great change.

But... why exactly did he look towards me? There are plenty of people here without allies... Will I just be a scapegoat, or do they genuinely want me?

* * *

 **Loralei Tenaris, District Eight**

* * *

''Wow,'' I whisper to myself. Clarence – my caustic, condescending partner – found two allies before I could even find one.

Well, it doesn't matter. See, I would dedicate the remaining time that I have left to go after allies and end up acquiring more than him, but none of these tributes here could handle me anyway. Besides, most of them seem to have found allies that they're set on keeping.

Better for them and better for me, I suppose. It'd be hard to keep track of what I plan on doing while also making sure that they were safe.

The only tributes that I spot who are alone are the boys from Seven and Nine, and the girl from Ten. She's been so weird and quiet, and I don't really like it. So introverted and secretive... But she doesn't fade into the background as much as she wants to; everyone knows her as the only Outer District Volunteer.

Right now, she's throwing a couple of knives at a target, hitting close to the bullseye every time. How interesting, that with only three days of training, she's already able to use a weapon like a professional. I'm just glad that not everyone who gets picked for these Games has that much dedication, because it'd be one hell of a competition if that was the case.

Sighing, I turn back down to the book in my hands. It was on one of the book shelves near the farthest wall of the Training Center, and it just stuck out to me for some reason. The print was different from all the other ones that I had seen, the font was smaller and even the color made it stand out.

Luckily, I got my hands on it first. My Mentor told me that I'd want to look in every corner of the Training Center and not just heed the advice that the trainers give me – maybe she was referring to the books as well. Who knows?

In the book it states, _''As science and science fiction merge, we unravel the ancient mysteries of the human experience. If indeed entities exist beneath the surface of the planet, they would not live in molten rock but in space ships. And as the tectonic plates are breaking – it is either by their doing, a knowledge that the consciousness hologram that creates this reality, is ending so they no longer have to monitor from below, or they emerge as the plates naturally break apart.''_

. . .What does that mean, though? Ancient mysteries of the human experience, entities beneath the surface of the planet, and tectonic plates breaking? The only thing I know about tectonic plates is that if they rub together, an earthquake occurs. Everything else is a blur to me, and it's all quite ambiguous, to tell you the truth.

Maybe—

''Um, excuse me,'' someone interrupts my thoughts. I look up from my book, meeting the eyes of a trainer. ''Yeah, I'm sorry but, you see, you've been doing nothing but reading books every single day that you've been here, and I know that it's none of my business, but—''

''It really is none of your business,'' I reply, cutting her off this time.

''—but, it's getting on my nerves. You've been wasting your time and I do not understand why. What combat knowledge do you have for this competition? Another tribute just wasting their precious time, only to end up dying quickly, I guess.''

''Wow, someone's tetchy!'' I laugh. ''It's just that, well, you see,'' I mock her, ''I'm really interested in this book, and you should really just back off my business. Besides, your job is to wait for tributes to ask you for help so that you can inform them on things, not walk around and invite yourself into what they decide to spend their time on. Now, I think there might a tribute looking for you at your stand, you might wanna go back.''

''So you go from a quiet little girl who's reading a book to a grown up who snaps at any second?''

''Well, if you knew me, you would understand that I'm a very contradicting person, sweetheart,'' I say as I close my book, drag myself up, and callously flip her off.

The look on her face shows nothing but confusion. It's funny because she then glowers at me, and oh, how much I love it when people look at me that way. Just watching their facial expressions turn upside down and twist and turn is so interesting.

 _''Tributes,''_ a voice calls out from the Center's speakers. _''If you would, please make your way outside of the Training Center. Your individual sessions will commence shortly. Line up in District order from girl-to-boy fashion. Choose wisely on what you want to show us because your training scores do matter. We will call yours names forward one by one, so be ready. Your time will be limited, so think quickly, and good luck.''_

Well, I chose a good time to stand up. I won't be in there anytime soon, so let's see what I come up with.

* * *

 **Sawyer Fira, District Seven**

* * *

Pushing through the double doors, I'm welcomed with icy cold glares from each Gamemaker sitting in their spacious booth. It's as if they're expecting something remarkable that will make their eyes pop out of their skulls. _Wonderful..._

''Sawyer Fira,'' I bow, introducing myself.

''You have five minutes, Ms. Fira,'' one of the Gamemakers – presumably the head – says. ''Knock yourself out.''

''Oh, what _fun_!'' I sarcastically remark. ''I'll make sure to do so.''

''Sarcastic, huh?'' the same Gamemaker makes out. ''Well then.''

From the weapons rack, I grab a felling axe – which is quite light in my hand, since I'm extremely used to this – and lumber towards a dummy, dragging the head of the axe behind my foot. There are dummies stacked all around the Training Center, with some of the white cloth on the floor. Guess other tributes had fun with them.

I'm almost there, to the dummies, when I begin to feel the awkwardness. A Gamemaker leans in forward, observing me _extremely_ close. Their surveillance makes me feel _extremely_ uncomfortable.

''Hey, can you stop being a creep and staring me straight in the face? You should be looking ahead at what I'm going to do, not me!''

''I'm sorry, but it's hard to take my eyes off of a pretty lady.'' The creep makes my skin boil. My fist is suddenly white-knuckled around the handle of the axe, and I just want to send it flying through the glass and into his skull. ''My eyes are basically glued onto you.''

The group begins laughing, except for one of them, who looks at me stony-eyed. ''Shut the fuck up, you assholes!'' I scream. ''Don't fuck with me like that! You guys are nothing but a bunch of pussies who hide behind a laboratory all day and plan out ways to kill children, so if I can request one thing before I possibly die, it's that you stop being annoying little cunts and give the tribute the satisfaction of not having to be bothered by you any longer!''

The laughter secedes and dies out, and each and every Gamemaker is now quiet. ''Two and a half minutes left, Ms. Fira. I'd suggest you hurry up and impress me, or change your strategy to something more simple and less talkative but more effective.''

''No, I'm sticking to what I decided to show you,'' I retort.

''Stubborn as well, are we?'' He currently leans back against his chair. ''Continue, then.''

With a sigh, I raise my weapon above my head and strike down vertically, aiming to land a gash in the dummy's ribs. I learned this in my training, the dummy's ribs will deteriorate the person's strength to an extreme and allow for additional attacks; such as a low blow to bend the opponent over and attack their clavicle, rendering at least one of their arms useless.

Using my free arm, I use my forearm to strike a major nerve pathway in the jaw region, forcefully knocking the dummy down with a single blow.

''Time's up, Ms. Fira.'' The Head Gamemaker calls out.

I care not to look at them and speak a single word. Instead, I turn away, place the axe back in the weapons rack, and walk out of the double doors. Barely any tributes remain in the hallway, and it's kinda weird that all of them are staring at me.

''What,'' I let out, ''don't have anything else better to stare at?''

''No, I'm just curious as to what happened in there. Anything you can let me – or us – know?'' someone asks.

''No!'' I respond, quite harshly, actually.

''So hostile. They make you mad in there or something, so you act like an ass to me?''

I don't know who this boy is or why he's even speaking to me, but I want nothing to do with him or anyone else here.

''Honestly, no,'' I say. ''This is just my regular disposition. Get used to it.''

* * *

 **Taisiya Danshov, District Nine**

* * *

Why are they looking at me like that?

''You have twenty-five seconds left, Mr. Danshov,'' says a Gamemaker.

He looks so tired of me, like what I've done so far has been the most pitiful performance he's ever seen in his life.

''Get me an Avox!'' I order, shooting my arms outward.

I'm trembling. The shiv in my hand is so misplaced that it could easily cut me if I slip up one time, but I just can't stop. They just keep staring at me..! Like I'm some sort of idiot, a menace if you will.

''Mr. Danshov, you have exactly ten seconds remaining and you would like an Avox? Do you understand how little time is left?''

''Yes, and you're wasting it!'' I snap, unable to keep my mouth shut. ''Just get one, I still have time!''

Surprisingly, one of them waves their hand and a Peacekeeper fetches an Avox – this short, innocent-looking blonde boy with freckles speckled all over his cheeks and nose. The boy stands in front of me, his eyes locked on mine, and a small smile takes over my lips.

Just as I stop shaking and bring the shiv up, a young Gamemaker says, ''Time's up, Mr. Danshov.''

... _What?_ The words that he just spoke don't seem to be real. My mind is absolutely surging with perplexity, I just don't understand. I slowly slump with one hand in my pocket, not even bothering to feign making sense of what he just said. I glance upward, my mouth pursed but slightly open and loose. My eyes are so fixed that they eventually become watery and my eyesight turns blurry – but I'm not tearing up.

''What do you mean 'Time's up'?'' I mumble under my breath, barely audible to anyone else. In fact, everyone begins looking around. Even the Avox gives me a puzzled look. Shaking my head, I continue to stare forward without wiping my eyes.

''Um, Mr. Danshov, is there something that you have to say? And what exactly are you staring at?''

No answers from me. Moments go by without a single word spoken, and finally the same Gamemaker opens up his mouth again. ''Alright, get him out of here, boys.''

Just as a Peacekeeper takes a step towards me I lash out, wrapping my entire arm around the Avox's neck, strangling him with all the power that I can muster. I pin the blade of the shiv against his right cheek, pressing down as hard as I can. ''What do you mean my time's up? I just started!''

''Yes, five minutes ago, Mr. Danshov.''

''Shut up!'' I yell back, digging the shiv deeper into the Avox's cheek. He begins squirming and shaking, clawing at my arm to let go. I just can't, though, I'm not finished yet. I can't control myself or my emotions.

''What more do you have left to show us?'' An elderly man stands up, pointing for a Peacekeeper to grab me and remove me from the building, only to be stopped by the young Gamemaker again, who steadily focuses his eyes on me.

''You wouldn't let me show you what I wanted to just a few seconds ago, why are you curious now?!'' I ask, yelling as loud as I possibly can. ''Because you're scared that something bad might happen here? Is your precious little Avox important to you?''

This was the first idea to pop into my mind, to show them that I've got _more_. Maybe I'm not the most attentive and don't do well with my time, but they rushed the chance that I rightfully deserved to be patient with.

''You dimwit, I could care less about that Avox! Go ahead, kill him, we have plenty more in the back!''

Laughing almost maniacally, I swerve my arm down just as the Gamemaker who was waiting to see what would happen yells to me that what I've been doing is enough. I stop in my tracks, staring down at the struggling man who's face has turned a pale sheet of ghost white, his teeth tugging at his lower lip.

''You may care about him,'' I say, ''but I don't, and I have my session to finish.''

''Grab him!'' I hear.

My hand reaches only so far down that the shiv enters the Avox's cheek and pierces his skin – though I don't know how far deep – before I'm tackled to the ground. The Avox falls to the floor, reaching for his cheek as his screams are inaudible due to his missing tongue. _It must hurt._ His tears show just how much pain he's in, and the blood seeping through his mouth gives you an idea of how serious the wound is.

It's funny how that's the last thing I see before a sleeper hold puts me out in minimal time.

Hold up. Was that Demetri I saw before I fainted, though?

* * *

 **Vendetta ''Shadow'' Ischyroe, District Ten**

* * *

After a Peacekeeper drags out an unconscious District Nine boy and carries him into an elevator, my name is called. I creep into the Training Room, quietly walking forward without sparing a glance at the Gamemakers.

Immediately I begin working, cutting them off before they can say ''Five minutes, Ms. Ischyroe.''

''Someone's ready to work...'' I hear in the background. ''Kinda weird, don't you think? I mean, she's shown no emotion upfront so we can already guess what type of tribute she is. Another Outer District freak, I suppose.''

 _Wrong._ I snap my head to the right, staring at them with an unnerving gaze. ''What you think doesn't matter,'' I say, just loud enough for them to hear. All of them return a sardonic smile. Forgetting them, I return to what I was going to do.

I speed walk to the knives rack and pick up two combat knives that I can use for either throwing or melee fighting. After that, I turn my attention to the camouflage paint and start working on myself. It doesn't take too long to paint my arms and legs the color of twig brown and the rest of my body a realistic shade of bush green.

To add more to my disguise, I even paint leaves on my body from head to toe. After about a minute and a half goes by, I pace myself to the forest-based section of the facility, where a bunch of shrubs and small Lodgepole pine trees are located.

When reaching my destination, I call out to the Gamemakers, knowing that I don't have much time left. ''Please send out five Peacekeepers and have them come after me. I'll be waiting,'' is all I say before taking off into the small indoor forest.

From afar, I can see the intrigued looks on the Gamemakers' faces. Only a few moments later I hear the stomping of multiple boots slamming into the ground, and I prepare myself for the silent hunt. Letting out a deep sigh, I yell, ''Come and find me!''

Second by second they get closer, and I'm able to distinguish their conversations. ''Maybe she's in a bush,'' one of them says. ''Let's split up to see who can catch her first. Winner gets twenty percent of the losers' next paycheck. Deal?''

''Deal!'' the rest of them say unanimously.

Hiding right behind one of the trees, I suck in my stomach and hold in my breath as a Peacekeeper slowly creeps by, chuckling under his breath as he whispers something extremely confident.

He completely misses the sight of me, despite rotating his head back and forth and even staring directly at me at one point, but my eyes were squinted enough for him not to notice my sclera. I quickly push myself off of the trunk of the tree and cover his mouth with my hand, place one of my knives near his throat, and throw myself backwards as I pin him to the floor.

''Ooh, she's good!'' I hear a Gamemaker clap in the background.

The Peacekeeper sighs deeply as the attack knocks the wind out of him, which causes another Peacekeeper that was close enough to hear the confrontation run over here. I quickly dive into a small bush, blending in perfectly, and wait for the next Peacekeeper's footsteps to grow louder.

Just as I'm sure he's right there, I swiftly jump out of the bush with my knife raised, aimed at the Peacekeeper's neck. The surprised look on his face almost shows fear, but I doubt that's what it actually is. Under the great tree, I pretend to curve my knife downwards, grab him by his shoulder straps, and toss him into the bush.

 _Just three more,_ I think to myself. There's hollering in the background – the Gamemakers are getting a kick out of this. Instead of staying where I was and waiting for more Peacekeepers to find me, I go after them. There seems to be two Peacekeepers working together up ahead, both of them laughing with one another like this is a game.

 _Think..._ I tell myself. A simple but effectual idea forms in the depths of my mind. Picking up a small pebble, I waste no time in tossing it at a tree left of the Peacekeepers. A loud _bang_ emits from the tree and both of their necks snap towards the sound. Now running, I sneak through bushes and listen as one of them yells ''Hey!''

The knife goes flinging out of my hand, traveling at a speedy velocity, and impales itself in one of their hands. Whichever one the knife hit, it doesn't matter, because they're both confused and lost – one of them also in pain. I sprint out of my hiding spot – but I do everything in order to make sure that my footsteps are quiet – and knock them both back from behind by launching myself at them and sending my knees forward.

As both of them are on the ground, completely incapacitated, I stomp my foot against one of their temples – though not too hard, just enough to knock him out and not kill him. Turning to the second one, I raise my foot up and don't have enough time to bring it down before he says ''Wait, not yet!'' We stare at each other, gazes stone-cold and focused, before he continues. ''H-How? And when?''

''By the time you'd figure that out,'' I breathe, ''it would be too late for you, just like it'll be too late for all these other tributes.''

After my brief sentence, I descend my foot and slam it into his temple, too. Nothing but silence now, and just one more Peacekeeper left. Not sure what I want to do, but—

''Time's up, Ms. Ischyroe!'' I look up, only to meet the eyes of impressed Gamemakers. They all begin speaking among themselves about me, and I take this opportunity to leave.

''Though, before you depart, we have a couple of questio—'' They pause just as I sneak out the door. ''Hey, where'd she go?'' I hear, just as their voices begin to dull. Dammit, that girl's never to be seen, and the one time anyone gets a good glimpse at her she's gone just like the wind. Again...''

And that's how it'll always be – for now, at least.

* * *

 **Demetri Calderon, Head Gamemaker**

* * *

Bobbing my head back and forth, I ask, ''Are you all ready?''

Wanson, Celia, and Reginold, my crew, all shake their heads in unison. The first tribute's, Blush Belfleur's, holographic picture appears up underneath our center surface. ''Her performance was...'' I trail off.

''Seductive?'' Wanson finishes my sentence. Letting out a laugh, he leans in forward. ''That helped her out, in my opinion, but she didn't show much of what you'd imagine a 'true' Career to be like.''

''Yeah, her looks are all that she's got going for her,'' Celia groans. ''I say a S _even._ ''

'' _Eight_ ,'' I object. ''Don't forget that she has a lot of skills with poison. The girl's smart, she knows how to make her way around.''

Everyone nods their heads in agreement – even Celia, despite the fact that she rolls her eyes in what seems like jealousy. I chuckle to myself before replacing Blush with Adonis. ''Ah, Adonis. I think we can all agree that he deserves a _Nine_?''

''Exactly what I was thinking,'' Reginold says. ''The kid's incredible at long distance, has perfect aim, perfect vision, and isn't too shabby at close combat. But... he's not very serious. And I think that that could be his downfall if he doesn't pick up his act.''

Agreeing, I put in Adonis's Training Score on the holographic keypad and swipe next. ''Now we've got Sigrid. Thoughts?''

''The girl was serious from the get-go, and she showed a lot of resourcefulness. She could be a threat, a major one, but her personality is... might I say, terrible?'' Celia responds. ''She's hiding something, and it's obvious to see that, but this might anger her teammates – assuming she has any – and cause conflict. I say she deserves a _Nine._ For being one year less experienced, she's fairly mature enough to do well.''

''Exactly what I was thinking,'' I nod. Next up is Atlas's radiating smile, and sure enough, Celia jumps up in elation.

''Give him a _Twelve!_ '' she begs.

''You're way in over your head with this one,'' Reginold comments. ''I'd give the kid either a _Nine_ or a _Ten_. He showed promise of great skills, his personality was charming enough to give you an idea of the surplus amount of sponsors that he'll receive, and he's got a bit more than traditional combat.''

''His survival skills weren't half bad either,'' I add. ''With all this, I think it's safe to say that he deserves a _Ten?_ ''

''Yes.''

Next up is the District Three girl, Cathodette. ''She... didn't show much initiative during her time. She doesn't deserve anything above a _Five_ because not much was shown. She had a bit of knife combat, but that was sloppy and ineffective. It's almost as if she doesn't care if she ends up dead or not.''

''I say a _Four_ is perfect for her, don't you guys agree?'' Wanson asks. ''I mean, her knife skills weren't the best, but they were superior to that we saw of many other tributes.''

''Agreed,'' Celia and I say.

''An A for effort,'' Wanson laughs.

''Are you retarded?'' I question, staring at him like an ashamed parent. ''Where do you get these quotes from?''

''Don't worry 'bout that,'' he smirks. ''Moving on?''

Emil's idiotic, knuckle-headed smile appears on his profile. I begin tapping the table with my fingers, not exactly sure where to go with this one. ''The kid's not an idiot,'' Celia says. ''He's smarter than we all give him credit for, and he's fooled everyone of us at least once. He created a couple of electronic devices out of simple equipment in this facility that work just fine, and only in five minutes, too! His technique with a sword is amazing for a Non-Career, and his intelligence is unmatched by anyone else's that we've seen so far.''

''The kid deserves an _Eight_ ,'' Reginold adds. ''The only thing holding him back is his annoyance, his attention-craving personality, and his troublesome traits.''

''An Eight it is, then?'' I ask – everybody agrees.

The District Four tributes both receive a _Ten_ each. Clarice Auden is incredibly skilled and takes what she wants, either forcefully or willingly. Her problem is that she seems... unhinged. Something about her makes us feel like she'll lose control soon, and it'll either help her or hurt her, so we all played the safe game.

Zeppelin, on the other hand, is sort of the opposite of her. He's got control and is very leader-like, and he shows an impassive trait of no feeling. We never see tributes like that enter the Games and go out the same way. His skills are incredible, and he might be the leader that the Careers _need_ – District Four is exceptional this year.

This next tribute makes me smile. Cassia Abbey, one of the most engrossing tributes I've met in years. ''I absolutely love this girl,'' I smile. ''She's entertaining, hilarious, and ditzy. Don't you guys think that's incredible?''

''There's nothing incredible about a girl who's trying to flirt her way to a good score,'' Wanson rolls his eyes. But there's no way he can hold in his stifled laughter. ''Okay, it was kinda incredible, but she doesn't deserve anything high.''

''Let's give her a _Three_ for trying,'' I suggest. ''Her weapon skills weren't good – at all – but she did know how to hold a knife properly.''

Up next is Beckett.

''His smile is gorgeous,'' Celia states. ''The kid deserves a _Six._ His machete fighting wasn't too bad. Maybe it wasn't incredible, but since you've all been so generous with these female tributes, how about we give one of the males a chance, too?''

''Hmm,'' I ponder it. ''I guess that could work.''

''What?'' Reginold laughs. ''He deserves a _Five_ ; his performance wasn't extraordinary, nor was it boring. It was just plain, I think a _Five_ suits him.''

''Oh, well,'' I shrug. ''My word is final, and he gets a _Six_.''

''Weak.''

''You can say so.''

Up next is Bree Andersson. '' _Seven_ ,'' I say confidently, not needing to look at the others to tell that they're nodding their heads in agreement. She showed a great skill of bravery, determination, and is incredibly keen, but her overconfidence doesn't allow her to score any higher. ''She's definitely got potential; don't know how far she'll go, though, but I'd love to see her excel most of the others.''

''And our last tribute before a short lunch break,'' I groan. ''Poet Monroe. Thoughts?''

''He's too nice.''

''Too soft.''

''Kid's got nice hair, though.''

''Ugh,'' I sigh. ''You guys are so useless. When I say thoughts, I mean opinions on his skills. Yes, he is too nice; yes, he is too soft; yes, he does have really, _really_ nice hair, but his work with a machete was passable, and his survival skills were striking. I'm giving the kid a _Five_ , any disagreements?''

''Nope. When's lunch?''

''Right now.''

As I stand up, I can't help but feel my heart drop. I'm just handing out these scores, and it's almost like I don't feel any pain from doing so.

Have I forgotten that I was in the same position as these kids not too long ago?

* * *

 **Ceres Golovin, District Twelve**

* * *

I sit on the edge of the couch and sway my legs back and forth nervously. Up on the screen, the District Seven boy's face appears and his Training Score does as well. A _Three_ isn't too bad, right? _Of course it is, you know that. Don't ask stupid questions when you already know the answer to them._

Sighing, I watch his image disappear and get replaced by his partner's. Unlike him, she does well and earns a _Seven_. That's the type of score I want, but I know that I didn't do anything exceptional to get a score like that.

The District Eight girl receives a _Six_ , while the guy receives a _Five_. Most of these scores really make me curious – just what exactly were the Gamemakers looking for? What did these tributes do to get those certain scores? What went right and what went wrong?

The next District, I believe, just surprises everyone. Neither of the two did good, to be honest. The girl, Rhea, got a _One._ And Taisiya got a _Two_. I've seen Rhea constantly cry, and it made me feel bad because she so desperately needed help from someone. And her partner... I'm sort of and sort of not surprised that he got a score like that. He's always been so cryptic and hostile, I've just never thought of going anywhere near him.

''Where's Ocelot?'' I ask, looking around. He's nowhere to be found, but I spot Calieh leaning against the kitchen counter.

''Probably in his room speaking with Joydin. But don't worry about that right now, you should really pay attention to the scores,'' he says, coughing in between his sentence.

I nod my head and avert my attention back to the television. District Ten's female tribute got a _Ten_... And she's a Non-Career! I think she completely stole the show away from everyone else. There's no way I could imagine anyone not being surprised by this; I'm slack-jawed.

When her image is finally replaced by that of her District Partner's, I snap out of my trance. He got a lower score of a Seven, but it's still a good score. This is really interesting to me because most of the tributes this year have gotten significantly high scores.

How ironic is it that the next two tributes both get decently high scores as well? – Both received _Sevens_ , and those are District Eleven tributes! It's good to never underestimate anybody, but we haven't seen anything like that in years. I'm happy for them and everyone else who's gotten a good score, but...

''You're up next, Ceres,'' Calieh says.

''Yeah...'' I smile weakly.

''You ready to see what you got?'' he asks, just as my face appears on the television screen, my look showing the face of a worried but hopeful girl.

''As ready as I'll ever be.''

* * *

 **A/N: Ayeee! It's been forever, I know, like three months or something? Sorry for the long wait, guys. I really can't make up any excuses and say that I was busy, even though I kinda have been. I mean, school started again and it's like the most important year for me because Colleges and stuff are looking at my grades a lot and I'm like... trying not to be as goofy and shit as I've always been. But I still am, and it's worth it, but I owe you guys an update and an explanation. Not gonna lie, I lowkey thought about just writing a summary for this because I've been fucking around in life and just been having a lot of shit on my plate at times, but I remember that I promised that I'd never give up on a SYOT and I won't be anytime soon.**

 **I can't lie and tell you guys that updates will be back like they were when I first started this story, but I'll try to get shit poppin' again. And yeah, I know, I was being a little bitch last chapter and complaining about writing these 9000 words or whatever and here I am sorta doing it again this chapter. -_- Yeah, the thing about that is I _am_ done with these close to 9000+ word chapters, but there are certain chapters where I think I'll _have_ to do them; such as chapters like the last day of training (this one), the Interviews, which are up next – and ugh, expect another long break with that chapter if I'm being honest, but I'll try to work on that – and certain chapters in the Arena where I'll have these big as plans that'll totally make you guys say, ''WTF DID YOU JUST DO?!'' I hope.**

 **Otherwise that, I'm actually fucking done with these long ass chapters lmao. Also, I'm sorry to those of you who've PMed me like four months ago and I still haven't responded. I'm an asshole, I know, but I'll get to that sooner or later. I'm not ignoring y'all, I'm just being a procrastinating lil' teen who's livin' life. And if this chapter wasn't satisfactory, I'm sorry, I'm hella rusty after writing literally nothing for months and only doing school essays and shit, so all the ideas that I had for this chapter went completely down the drain and I had to think of less interesting shit. And excuse my errors or whatever, y'all know I'm not totally down with proofreading ;) But on a serious note, I can promise that when I hit the Arena, then updates will become a little bit more frequent. I'm really fuckin' with the Arena ideas and stuff that's about to go down when the actual Games hit, so yeah. Oh, and lemme know what you guys thought about the Training Scores. They're on the blog, too, if some of you missed them for some reason. I might've been a bit too generous, but I kinda like what I ended up with.**

 **That's all for now, really. I'll see you guys whenever I can, hopefully with a quicker update, though. I'll see y'all next time, bye! ^-^**


	13. You're That Close

**Interviews:**

* * *

 **Poet Monroe, District Six**

* * *

''Looking spiffy, dude,'' Bree says, smiling as she turns around to speak with me after exchanging a few words with Beckett. ''That light pink suit is adorable on you, but,'' she says, stopping for a second and straightening my crooked white boy-tie, ''let me fix this real quick.''

''Thanks, Bree, I appreciate that—''

''Ah, I'm not done yet,'' she cuts me off. She then licks her finger once and sweeps a lock of hair away from my face. ''Voila!'' she exclaims, clapping her hands together and smiling.

''Ew, gross!'' I laugh.

''Oh, shut up,'' she nudges. ''You look even cuter now with my help. And I bet you that the audience out there will agree on that.''

Speaking of the audience... Just as Addison Chevel steps out on the stage with her blossoming yellow dress and studded high heels commences the Interviews with an introduction, I look out into the maxed-out rows of seats filled with Capitolites. None of them are some ordinary, polite crowd from the rich part of our country; they're all hungry for excitement after anticipating their favorite annual activity to return after three-hundred and sixty-four days. Tomorrow makes it the sixty-fifth. They're all jostling to make sure they have the best view of the stage, cheering and yelling out the name of a few of their favorite tributes – I hear my name in the mix a few hundred times.

So many myriads of faces – like beads on a work pattern – all in different shapes and forms emerge as Addison says, ''Welcome to the One Hundred Seventy-Sixth Annual Hunger Games!''

The entire building ruptures with applause, but I zone them out for one quick second. Placing my hand on Bree's shoulder after noticing her disappointed look, I ask, ''You good?''

''Yeah,'' she nods, sighing, though I can tell that she's patently lying.

''Look,'' I say. ''Whatever happens out there, don't even sweat it. You'll do amazing, and if they don't like you, screw them, you have nothing to worry about because you have so much skill. I know that you're nervous about this interview and the beginning of Hell tomorrow, but just remember that you've got a good head on your shoulders.''

I see her lips twitch into a proud smile and before I know it, I'm wrapped in a tight hug from Bree.

''Aw,'' I say, returning the hug.

An uproar of applause and excitement jumps out at us from behind the curtains and in front of the stage. ''Thank you, thank you, you're all too kind!'' Addison says. ''And since I know you've all been _dying_ to see them again – alive and breathing, for now – let me start us off by introducing the first tribute of the night: Blush Belfleur!''

The girl struts over to the blood red couch, making sure to make lots of noise with her gem-encrusted high heels and show off her pretty nude painted nails. Her purple striped dress is stunningly visual, especially when the lights from above bounce off of it, and the way her hair is draped over her shoulders conveys an attractive look.

''So, Blush, if you don't mind me asking, why did everyone look so surprised when you Volunteered? It seems like your partner was a big part of it, because many people were looking at him and another female in your section. Care to share?''

''It was nothing, really. They were just surprised because I took a spot that was rightfully mine, even though I didn't quite need it, you see. It came as a shock to them, I guess.''

''What do you mean by it was rightfully yours, and you didn't quite need it?''

''Well, if you look at me, I just portray the vision of a luxurious girl. I don't need the publicity of the Games, or the money, I just want my revenge. Plus, they gave the Volunteering spot to this stupid girl who was way in out of her head to Volunteer. Not my problem, though.''

''Very interesting, Blush. But revenge? On who, if I may ask?''

''Revenge on your very own Gari, the Victor from two years ago,'' Blush leans in forward, blowing a kiss to the crowd. ''But that's all you need to know for now, I think my time is up.''

She gets up and dismisses herself. Addison looks shocked, but she checks the time and it seems as if Blush was correct. Left in a momentary cliffhanger, she invites Adonis out next. He takes a seat next to her, crossing one leg over the other in a fashionable manner and relaxing his wrist to show off the tinted blue watch with gold handles and a silver lining. He pulls down his tie to relax his platinum button down shirt's collar.

''Adonissssss! You look stunning, dear! The button down shirt, the hair, the watch, the shoes, the pants, the belt, and,'' Addison gasps, ''is that a sapphire ring that I see?''

''It is,'' Adonis relaxes. ''I owe this look to my stylist. I'd choose this style every day if I could, but I'm not as amazing at styling myself like you Capitol people are.''

''Aww!'' The crowd coos.

''You're flattering, honey, you truly are.'' Addison quickly changes the topic of speech, though, averting her attention back to her previous topic. ''So. That girl that Blush and I were talking about, why was it such a big deal?''

Adonis's eyes slump over but then widen, like at first he was annoyed by the question but felt surprised at the same time, but he's not jumping out with reaction like most tributes would; he's so chill and laid-back. ''The girl who's place she stole was my twin sister's spot,'' he says, and everyone in the audience gasps like this is a movie. ''And my sister was ecstatic to Volunteer, because with her and I both in the Games, there's no way District One wouldn't three-peat due to our connection.''

''Wow, I was not expecting that... Say, what was your sister's reaction, what did she tell you, and did anybody else know, besides you two?''

''Just our mentors who knew, and Gari was disappointed, as you can tell. And my sister's reaction wasn't pleasant, I'll tell you that much.''

''Unfortunately, it seems as if time is up. Off you go, Adonis, it was wonderful speaking to you.'' Adonis smoothly walks off of the stage with the crowd chanting his name. ''I hope he does well, but up next, please help me introduce the lovely Sigrid Lapierre of District Two!''

''Sigrid, you're looking even more beautiful than usual; I'm jealous of your looks!''

''Thank you, Addison, but you shouldn't be. You're too attractive to be complimenting others like that.''

The both of them share a laugh, and Sigrid sits in a sexy posture, flickering her thick eyelashes and puckering her lips. It seems off, like the character doesn't fit with her. She's stunning, yeah, but her personality seems forced as she's speaking.

''You got a _Nine_ , a wonderful score for a Career, tying for the second highest among this group of tributes. How do you feel about that score?''

''I'm very appreciative of the _Nine_ , and it's a great score to have. It proves to many people how competent I am in the extremely important areas of practice. It shows that I have what it takes to win, and that's the plan, after all.'' She says, snickering in a genuine way, looking self-assured. Now this matches her.

After she leaves the stage, her partner mounts it. ''Hello, Addison, how are you today, beautiful?'' The boy already gets a cheer from the audience, just by asking a simple, flirtatious question, and a blush from Addison. ''What a wonderful crowd filled with wonderful people and a wonderful atmosphere!''

''Stop it,'' Addison laughs whole-heartedly, as if what he said was genuinely funny. She slaps his knee and squeezes it, a playful act. He returns the touch by holding that hand with both of his and kissing her tanned knuckles. ''Ooh, Atlas...'' She then coughs and adjusts her posture. ''How do you feel about your allies compared to yourself, especially when it comes to skills?''

''I think we're all talented people. Maybe I'm a tad bit better than the rest,'' he smirks, tilting his head and gaining a chuckle from the crowd. Addison laughs as well. ''Seriously, though, I'm assured of my abilities, and believe me, if it ever comes down to it, I will give you a good show against one of my allies.''

The two continue speaking, sharing friendly banter as they go back and forth. Atlas is cordial with not only her, but with the crowd as well. When it's his time to leave, he stands up and asks for a hug. Without a hint of hesitation, she jumps up to her feet, stumbling a bit in her heels, and locks him in a bear hug for way more than a necessary amount of time.

Cathodette appears onto the stage next, walking out in her scarlet silk minidress. When she sits down, Addison admires the ribbon under her chest that has a black rose attached to it. ''You're gorgeous, honey!''

''Thanks,'' Cathodette says plainly, showing no enthusiasm. Addison asks Cathodette about her life back home and how she plans on returning to her family. ''Honestly, I don't know. I don't miss home, or my family. I don't care if I return or not,'' she says.

''And why is that, if I may ask?''

''Because reasons.''

The rest of the interview is pretty awkward for Addison. Cathodette, on the other hand, walks off happily, without a care in the world.

Possibly the most interesting tribute of this year's Games, Emil Robins, walks up to the stage next, wearing nothing fancy at all, unlike most of us. A simple black tuxedo with a yellow rose on his chest is what he wears. Judging by his and Cathodette's outfits, I guess their designers worked together on these 'lazy' outfits.

''Emil! Emil. Emil, Emil, Emil...'' Addison places a fist on her cheeks. ''You're an interesting one, aren't you? It's nice to meet you face-to-face, though. I've been looking forward to this interview for a while.''

''Same here, baby. Let the questions begin.'' he smiles, sitting back comfortably.

''Okay. So we see that you're in the Career Pack this year, but what does that mean to you, knowing that someone from your District hasn't been skilled enough to earn a score as high as yours, _or_ join an alliance as competitive as yours in a long time.''

''I just feel happy because, let's face it,'' he stands up, doing a little dance, ''I'm the smartest tribute in YEARS to step foot on this stage. That's a fact, so it's only common for me to be included in the strongest alliance, right? Right?''

The audience laughs and cheers for the boy, his funny perception on things giving them a reason to smile. ''That's true, I can't lie. We've never seen a tribute like you who almost blew up an entire stadium with his outfit. You might be the craziest, too.''

''Nah, that one kid from last year was psycho, I think that title goes to him. But not really crazy, just special. I-In a good way. Not retarded special, j-just regular special. Like, like I'm normal, but with skills. Not that I need assistance and can't tie my shoes, or—'' he gulps, looking around, the audience laughing at his way of explaining things.

''I think we understand,'' Addison tries to contain her smile. ''Say you win these Games, though, what would you be interested in doing?''

''Whippin' bricks,'' he says quickly.

''What? What does that mean?''

Someone behind me laughs, understanding the joke that he just made while the rest of us are left confused. ''I-It means making kilograms of drugs, because, you see, I'd be smart enough to not only sell dope, but I'd be able to not get caught. We know how much of druggies the Capitol people are, and who better to get it from than a might-be Victor?'' The audience is cracking up with this risky joke.

''Really?''

''No, but it's an option,'' he admits. ''I'd much rather become a Gamemaker, though.''

''Why?''

''Because then I'd be able to give you an official twelve,'' he winks, leaving her mouth agape in a smile. The crowd cheers, hollers, and laughs at the nervous-looking boy who excuses himself off of the stage, a big smile forming on the edges of his lips.

''W-Well,'' Addison blushes softly, covering her face with both hands. She begins clapping for the kid, too, laughing and showing her beautiful white teeth. ''I'm in tears because of that!''

Most of us are, I'll say that. It's not everyone who can pull something like that off and earn love and laughter from it.

God knows must of us can't.

* * *

 **Clarice Auden, District Four**

* * *

I'm next. _Go out there and be remembered – not as another regular, air-headed girl from District Four. But as you; as Clarice Auden, the girl with unfinished business. The girl who has so much left to do and prove. The girl who will survive._

As I walk out, the audience gasps; Addison gasps, too. I take a slow strut when getting to my seat, lifting my dress up just a bit to my thighs in order to settle down comfortably. Crossing one leg over the other, I clasp my hands together while blowing kisses to the Capitol, free handed.

''Your outfit... I've never seen anything like it! Clarice, how was this inspired?''

''It was all my stylist, who I owe so much to. She decided that it was best to stick with our District theme, and with that, she thought it would be a great fit to tattoo my entire body with everything sea related. The black knee-length dress and gray heels are just a common sense of the Capitol fashion, but the colors of blue, red, and sea green of these exotic water items come from to mind of a brilliant Capitolite and transfer to a brilliant tribute.''

''You're just covered in sea beauty! And the animal with the gray fin right there, that's a shark, I believe? There's sand on your shoulder with little baby sea turtles crawling, there's shelves on your bicep, and there's even a mermaid holding a spear on your leg!''

''Correct,'' I smile.

After getting over my unique outfit, she proceeds to ask me questions. ''Are there any special talents that you think would help you in the Arena?''

''Well, like any other Career, I've come prepared with my very own special skills. For one, I can swim – which not many of the others can say they're able to do – and I'm quite flexible,'' I say, standing up and swiftly dipping to the ground in a split, flapping my dress up as I send a radiating smile to the audience, earning whistles.

''Quite impressive. How do you feel going into these Games, though? Are you really willing to kill? We've seen tributes like you enter these Games and come out an entirely different person. Or not come out at all, as a matter of fact.''

''Everyone's asked the same question,'' I say, breathing slowly. ''But of course I'm willing to kill. I volunteered for a reason, not because I'm some twisted girl who wants nothing more than to see the misery of others. I've got unfinished business that I need to attend to, and this is a huge step in finishing that business.''

''But what type of business?''

''You'll find out when I win the Games,'' I smirk, dismissing myself from the stage and into the back room, where all the other tributes who've finished are. Adonis and Blush are in a corner, probably teasing one another for all I know. I roll my eyes. Emil and Atlas are chatting up a storm while Sigrid eyes the District Three girl who sits alone, staring off into space blankly.

Zeppelin takes his seat a few moments after I've turned around. The interview starts off well for him, I guess. He's playing the mysterious and intimidating angle. Little to no words every time a question is asked, his body language doing most of the talking for him.

''I mean, when I kill them, I'll be merciless,'' he says, his voice faltering just a little. I squint my eyes as the audience gasps. ''I'll make it quick. The way I kill them is the way I'd want to be killed, so why make them suffer through it?'' The audience seem intrigued by his answers, though some see right through his responses and chuckle.

He's pretty laid-back for the rest of the conversation, letting out a snicker every now and then, but for the most part, his interview's gone well. When he makes his way over here, I begin. ''She seemed to love the fish scales and starfish on your suit,'' I purr, making jokes.

''Maybe,'' he shrugs, letting my arm rest on his shoulder. ''As long as it helps us out in there, I don't really mind.''

''Preach,'' I reply.

The District Five girl completely destroys her interview, surprisingly. Her flirting and beauty appeal to the Capitol, and her confidence surprises many. Though, when she says that electricity is part of her daily eating schedule, I completely flip it.

Beckett Leighton is the cheeriest, most optimistic kid I've seen all day. Reflecting on nothing bad, he completely abrogates any chance Addison has of making him look like a pathetic tribute. Smiling to the best of his ability, showing his perfect teeth, he stays cheerful and abstains from being gloomy.

''The people here are wonderful, I've made many friends, and I've yet to speak with people who I wished to be friends with, but I know that they're all exceptional people.''

District Six is what I had expected. The girl is way too anxious and lets the audience get into her mind, while the boy tries to be funny – it works out for him, but his interview is nowhere near Emil's performance.

The District Seven girl is mysterious, just like Zep was, but she's trying to make people like her – which is hard to do when you don't open up and give very little about your strategies and such, but keeping things to herself is smart.

After all of these interviews, I honestly just want this to be over with.

* * *

 **Clarence Loom, District Eight**

* * *

The Seven boy is a bit of everything. Funny, sarcastic, cocky, confident, anything you can imagine that would help him – but it won't, nothing will help him. This is the Games we're talking about, and only shit comes out of this.

''Hey, it's my turn, wish me luck, idiot,'' Loralei laughs.

''I hope you trip and break your neck, hoe.''

She steps up to the stage with her silky dress, prepared to compete for the best interview of the night. She starts off by making fun of everyone, which isn't the smartest thing to do, but I don't care, it's her fault if someone targets her for that; I don't care if she starts crying when death threats are sent her way, or if someone straight up walks up to her and beats her ass.

''Like my partner, Clarence, for example, he won't make it far. The kid is cynical as hell and doesn't have a bit of hope in him. In fact, he's been talking shit about all of you, but you wouldn't know now, would you? Looks like a sweet kid, except for the furrowed eyebrows all the damn time, but he's someone I'd suggest you all send mutts after.''

When she's done talking crap, she compliments the Capitol, leaving me in anger and awe. But I control my emotions, I don't let the anger take over me, because I _don't_ care. My emotions are for me and me only, and they should be held deep within, away from the open air. _Your turn,_ I tell myself.

When I'm called up, I take Nylon's novel – actually, I take out the last remaining page since I gave it away – out of my bright red, velvet suit pocket. Coughing into my hands, I hold it up and pretend to read it, ignoring Addison and the Capitol. The whispers start filling up the building, the people being disgusted by my actions.

''That's a nice outfit you got there, Clarence, your stylist did an amazing job! It's good enough to fit in with the chairs that we're sitting on now.''

''The only thing this damn outfit is good for is hiding blood,'' I say cynically. ''Go on with your next question, bitch.''

Addison grips her chair's arm rests in disbelief while the audience boos. I don't care, though, as I continue to pretend to read the page, only using it to hide my snickering.

''T-That page you're holding,'' she breathes, trying not to get upset. ''Why do you have it with you?''

''It's part of my token.''

''You mean the book that you gave the child during the Chariot Rides?''

''Yes. Nylon's novel, to be precise.''

''Aw, that's quite heartwarming.''

''Maybe so, but I ripped out the final page so they'll never know the outcome of the main protagonist's choice.''

''Just get off of my stage, please,'' Addison groans. ''I've had enough of you, we all have. I just despise speaking to tributes like you, they're just intolerable.''

''Good to know, but save your breath, because your words are going straight through one ear and out the other,'' I say, not directing my vision towards her, walking with the page still in front of me, as one hand flicks off everyone in the seats.

As I make my way to the back, I sigh deeply, realizing that I just did that. And I still don't care. Actions come with consequences, but I hate the Capitol for putting me in this so called 'game'. If they're excited for your death, why wouldn't you let most of it out and show them how you truly feel about them? ''Screw those guys, man.''

''That was really... brave,'' I hear, a hand comforting my shoulder. Looking up, I see Cathodette staring down at me, her eyes glossy and wet.

For a few seconds, I don't know what to say, how to react, or what I should do. I stand still, breathing slowly, my eyes wide.

''...Thanks,'' I let out.

* * *

 **Taisiya Danshov, District Nine**

* * *

''As you're sitting here, what are you thinking, darling?'' Addison questions Rhea.

Rhea fiddles with her spaghetti strap sleeves before answering. ''Just... why me? Out of everyone in District Nine, I'm the one to be chosen, and for what? I've never done anything wrong—'' she catches herself in mid-sentence, becoming transient of those thoughts. ''...but, it is what it is, and I promise to do my best.''

''That's good to hear,'' Addison says, ''because it's better to try and suffer, rather than give up and let yourself fall into the abyss.''

''Yeah...'' she trails off. ''Thank you for your words of encouragement, they mean a lot to me. More than you'll ever know.''

''That's sweet, honey. Really.'' The interview is finished off as Addison holds Rhea's hand up, excusing the pleasantly kind girl from the stage. As Rhea walks off, I notice a little tremble in her foot, and a twitch in her arm, possibly from contained emotions. ''And welcoming next, help me introduce Taisiya Danshov!''

As I step onto the stage, I move on my own free will. Not out of desperation or thought or anything like that, but just because I want to. I'm one of many people in this building, but yet still my own person. To an observer, I'm much more than part of moving mass, one with predictable behavior that's viewed as a whole; I'm viewed as something special, like twenty-three other children.

''Hello,'' I present my self kindly when I take my seat. ''Nice to meet you, Addison.''

''Nice to meet you as well, Taisiya. How have you been settling in with the other tributes? There are a lot of pretty faces here, have you ever imagined yourself being close to any one of them?''

''What do you mean by that?''

''Like, romance wise,'' she smiles.

My mind becomes foggy when she asks this question. Who else would I ever be interested in besides the one person I'd give everything to? ''No, not really,'' I fake a smile. ''I'm not here for relationships, I'm here to win and show that I deserve to live.''

A couple of people jump up from their seats with my answer, laughing and clapping after my response – they're way too excited about this. When it comes to tributes who say that they're willing to fight, they lose their damn minds.

''Wonderful answer, I love that you're upfront about things like this. When we look back at your Reaping, we clearly see that you had a different reaction earlier. What changed your mind?''

I bite the inside of my cheek, forcing out a laugh. ''I realized that I wanted to live, and being upset about it wouldn't give me an advantage. Plus, I want to be your Victor this year. And I promise I'll be a good one,'' I wink.

''But, when we speak of advantages, everyone in Panem might say that you have the largest _disadvantage,_ with the loss of an arm, part of your leg, and even your right eye. What is the story behind that?''

''That's a secret,'' I say, trying to change to topic. ''Besides, I don't even remember. It was probably an a-accident or something like that. Can we move o—''

''Oh, come on, you know you remember. Why can't you just tell us?'' she begs. ''It's not like you donated your amputated limbs for studies or something ridiculous like that.''

''You don't know anything about what's happened to my limbs, that's my business and my business only, so shut up!'' I stand up, huffing and puffing. But then I remember where I'm at, despite my face turning red from anger.

''Jesus, okay, calm down,'' Addison groans. ''That was a bit harsh, don't you think?''

 _I don't give a fuck_ , I want to say, but I keep quiet. ''Well, okay... Moving on, how did your family react to you being Reaped? Especially your twin... Nikolai? Nikil? No, it was Nikola, correct?''

''DON'T YOU EVER SPEAK OF HIS NAME!'' I scream, becoming unhinged. ''YOU DON'T DESERVE TO SAY HIS NAME!''

''Whoa, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you oka—''

''I'm good, just stop talking!''

''D-Do you? Are you—?''

''NO, SHUT UP!'' I yell again, knocking down her glass cup of water. ''JUST END THIS SHIT ALREADY!'' I storm off into the back room, fall to the floor and sit there with my legs crossed, scratching at my hair and wiping my burning eyes.

It's been about forty seconds between that interruption and the next interview. The Ten girl is up next – the weird, mysterious one. She's cooperating with Addison pretty well, answering questions easily, and with a small smile.

''Strategy? Well, there are twenty-three other tributes. I'll just play the Games right and do whatever I have to do in order to win. Survive longer than everyone else, really, that's the main go-to plan.''

''And how do you intend to do that?''

''By always being where you can't see me,'' she states, mysteriously and subtly. _The fuck does she mean by that?_ Something about her just irks me. She never used to smile, she was never around for most of the time, never visible to anyone. And all of a sudden she's Ms. Witty. ''While the opportunists, pessimists, and realists are struggling with their chances of survival, I'll be making my kills and proceeding to win. Sincerely, the opportunist.''

Slamming my fist into the ground, I watch as they all, including the tributes behind me, fall into hysterics. She's then asked about her Training Score and why it is that she has no partners yet. With that score, she could be included in the Careers, but it's strange that she's not. She's only a target now.

''You see, I'm all by myself. I live in my own little world, but that's okay, because they know me there,'' she says, genuinely laughing with Addison during their conversation.

When her interview's done, Avery replaces her on the velvet couch. He walks slowly to his seat, trembling in... _fear?_

''Avery?''

His eyes suddenly enlarge and become watery. On his hands, a gaggle of goosebumps laminate his frigid, naked skin. Slowly and deliberately, he looks up at Addison and croaks out, ''Y-Yes?''

''What's wrong, sweetie?''

''I-I-I-I... I-I don't want to go in tomorrow!'' he manages. ''I-I'm going to die, and y-you're all gonna see it happen on national television. I'm only fifteen, how c-could my life be over in so little time?''

''…'' Addison says nothing, remaining quiet and looking almost like she felt bona fide pity for him. ...Surprisingly. ''But, you got an _Seven._ Surely that proves that you have a bit of skill. You're one of the few to get that high of a score, excluding the Careers.''

''Y-Yeah, but that was a fluke!'' He tries to say something else but the inside of his mouth lacks moisture, and silence is the only thing that issues from his gape. His feet shiver, and his teeth sink deeply into his lower lip, more than could possibly be comfortable.

''I'm weak... I always have been, and there's no hope left for me. It was fun while it lasted, but life's just not meant to go on. Someday we all die, so I'd rather I die tomorrow rather than wait it out and die gruesomely. Thank you for being one of the few people to speak to me before death. Life will go on for others, though, and that's all that matters.''

Only silence fills there air before his time is up and the first Ceres takes his place. But good, though. That's the first tribute of the night to give up and accept death.

...Which means I'm one tribute closer to winning already. If this keeps up, the odds just might be in my favor, after all.

* * *

 **Kaster Navelle, District Eleven**

* * *

I study her movements as she approaches the stage, her gold form-fitting dress scintillating in the light and her black high heels making a crackling sound as she steps on the wooden stage. The sexy angle works for Ceres, as she sways her hips back and forth and blows kisses to the crowd.

When she takes her seat, she bats her eyelashes and flips a piece of her hair over her shoulder, smiling confidently at Addison, welcoming the social atmosphere. Which is weird. For her, I mean. She's never been like this before, but you do what you need to do for sponsors, I guess.

''Ceres, how confident are you entering these Games? Your District isn't known for acquiring the most Victors in the Games' history, but do you think that you can pull through and change that?''

''I do, actually,'' she says, blinking. ''Eleven might not be the most threatening District, or the strongest, but one of these days we're gonna take the crown. And why can't it be during this year? I could certainly help us do that.''

She's selling out... By the look on her face, I can tell that she feels degraded. She's never been open with the Capitol, or ever wanted to answer questions from a Capitolite. The fact that she's willing to do this for sponsors is just eye-opening.

''Winning isn't easy, as you know. Tributes and mutts are always after your head. What will you do to ensure that you survive as long as possible?''

''Well, I'm really going to rely on sponsors to help me out,'' she smiles, tilting her head to the side. When she gets up, slides the strap of her dress down and shows her shoulders, I laugh to myself. _Good move._ ''And whatever I need to do to get those sponsors... well, you can bet that I won't second guess my actions.''

''Thank you for your time, babe,'' Addison stands up. ''Ceres Morrisey, everyone!'' When she's gone, Addison starts again. ''Now, introducing Kaster Navelle, Ceres' wonderful District Partner!''

When I step up onto the stage, I sense a ton of attention being placed on me. The lights and cameras are all pointing at me, and I'm the star of the show for right now. So, I begin pacing confidently, walking with a lean in my step and smiling, nodding as I approach Addison and hold my hands out for her to take, as I greet her accordingly.

She takes my hand kindly, allowing me to shake it. ''How do you feel entering these Games? Like Ceres, being from District Eleven might not be in your favor. How do you feel about that?''

''Listen... I know that I'm from Eleven, but that doesn't mean anything,'' I sit up. ''We're not all the same tribute. Some of us are weak, some of us give up, some of us are completely lacking the nutrients to keep us alive, but I'm different. Something you've never seen before from a tribute coming from my District is what I am. I'll crash and I'll burn, baby, until I escape that Arena.''

''Bold words, but will you be able to prove it?''

''Pinky promise,'' I say, smiling as I hold my pinky finger out, and she takes it. ''But really, don't count me out just because I'm from Eleven. Don't underestimate any tribute; you never know, one of them just might have a change and surprise the hell out of you.''

''We surely won't underestimate you, not with that score of a _Seven_ that you received. How you got that, will we ever find out?''

''My survival in the Games will show just why I got that score,'' I reply boldly.

''Quite the confidence from a boy coming from a poorer and unprepared District. What do you believe your odds are in this competition?''

''Just as good as any one else's,'' I declare. ''I know that with the Careers, you're all predicting them to be final seven and up, and tributes like me are probably under your boots, but I'll work hard. That's all that it takes, really: dedication and confidence, pushing myself to the limit. If I stick true to my words – which I will – I can be the one who comes out on top. Besides, I think you're all forgetting, we all have a one in twenty-four chance of winning this thing. That one percent winner could be any one of us, but if I have to, I'll grind it out to make sure that it's me. I won't be another forgotten, untalented tribute who everyone will write off as a Bloodbath.''

''This was an amazing interview, Kaster, and I love your output on things. Sadly, time is up, but this was very enjoyable. Kaster Navelle, Panem!''

Addison stands next to me, locking her hands in mine and holding it out forward. After the applause, she gives me a hug and sends me walking off. A small grin forms on my face, and I adjust my open suit jacket, pulling it back, feeling free and proud.

Immediately, as I step into the back room, Poet, Bree and Beckett encircle me.

''Dude, that was awesome,'' Beckett says, placing a hand on my shoulder.

''Yeah, where did that come from? I wasn't expecting the confidence and mature tone in your voice. That'll leave an impression for sure, and you'll help us out a ton!'' Bree congratulates me.

''Kaster, that was amazing!'' Poet says, hugging me. Bree and Beckett both join in the hug as well. I can't help but laugh, but as I peer up, I see Ceres staring straight at me, her eyes somewhat cold as she walks towards her allies.

I feel no sense of tension between her and I. There's no reason for me to be scared of her or for her to be scared of me, or for us to feel threatened by one another. The looks she gives me could just be how her face naturally is, or what she gives everyone else. I don't know, but it's not gonna hold me down – not at all.

District Twelve – the last District – has two twelve-year-old children who make their mark on the stage. The girl is sweet, cute, and shy, answering her questions properly, but showing a bit of fear as she stutters in her speech. Her partner, Ocelot, is much more open. He's so proper from the jump, looking at everyone and smiling, being a gracious young man. He's praising the Capitol and telling them just how much he's always wishing to be here, and just how much he looking up to the Capitolites.

''I do believe that I can win. Anybody can. It's statistically proven that a twelve-year-old has just a great of a chance to win as an eighteen-year-old. Nobody knows who's going to win until the Victor is declared. You could guess, maybe, but it doesn't matter about skill. Probability is the main focus when it comes to winning, and I will do everything in my power to enhance my probabilities.''

He begins doing math equations on everyone's odds at winning and factors that will help, including things that have decided the Victor from past years. It's impressive – that he's just a child, yet not someone to look down upon.

When the interview is done, the audience gives a round of applause to all of the tributes as Addison closes off the one-hour special.

''Hey,'' I hear, turning around swiftly. ''Whatever happens in there tomorrow, can you guys promise me one thing?'' Bree asks.

Our attention is focused on her, all three of us nodding.

''Together until the end, okay?''

* * *

 **Launch:**

* * *

 **Vendetta Ischyroe, District Ten**

* * *

I'm here, standing in my pod. The containment makes me feel uncomfortable, the space so small and empty, only my body being inside. I look forward, meeting Hoover's eyes. He places his hands on the glass, exaggerating his feelings.

''Oh, Vendetta, I've known you for so little but it feels like you're my daughter, as if I've known you for years!'' he falls to the ground, knees on the floor. ''I'm going to miss you in there, but I will do everything in my power to send you the most amazing gifts! Trust me! I know that you don't see me on the level that I see you, but I will miss you, darling.''

''I'll miss you, too,'' I say, for possibly the first time to my Stylist. His eyes widen, a giant, white-toothed smile appearing on his facial features. Usually I'm stony and cold, but this time, I manage to crack a grin at him as well. Not as shady as I've been before, not as quiet, but actually... comforting.

It's the one and only time that I can be for quite some time now. It's for the best that I say something now rather than later, because I don't know if I'll even have a later.

Finally, after all of the tributes, I presume, have gotten into their pods, I begin to ascend into darkness. Hoover tries scratching at the tube in order to remove me from it, but I only smile down at him sadly and wave. I can't get distracted. Whatever happens next is what happens. Whether I like it or not, I've gotta kill.

For them.

* * *

 **Fidan Blanchett, District Seven**

* * *

Ascending up into darkness through the tube, I shut my eyes closed. It feels like I'm in this thing for minutes before I'm finally outside of the tube and on some type of surface. The first thing that fills my ears is a high-pitched scream coming from someone far away from me. My eyes open automatically, and the first thing that I see is eternal darkness and bright, shimmering stars that blind my vision.

Behind me, I feel something warm, something radiating. Turning around, I notice this giant ball of gas just hovering there, remaining still as flames emit from it and fly out. ''What the hell?'' I whisper under my breath, trying to make sense of what's going on.

Next to me, on my left, is the Career boy from One, who starts shouting as he feels himself losing his balance. I glance at him, watching as he catches himself smoothly and stares down in shock. Tilting my head downward, preparing myself for what I'm about to see, I notice the Earth.

Wait. The Earth?

And it's opened up, too! Like, it's hollow, to be exact. Inside of it is a mix of all sorts of colors, swiveling back and forth. I'm confused because there's no timer, we're just hovering up in SPACE with pedestals and there's nowhere to jump but down, and I'm fearing for my life.

Suddenly, someone else screams – a male this time. I quickly turn to my right, looking at the girl from Three. She looks terrified out of her mind, but so does everyone else. Next to her, the boy from District Two's pedestal goes crashing down from space, and everyone flips out. He screams as he falls, the sound of his voice becoming haunting.

After he and his pedestal disappear into the colors, a ton of other tributes' pedestals start falling, bringing them down with it. Some of the tributes decide not to wait for the Gamemakers to bring them down and jump instead, facing whatever awaits for them. Soon, only me and like, nine more tributes remain. We all stare at each other, everyone spaces apart.

I spot the District One boy eyeing the girl from Six, then he turns his head to face me – and we're the only two remaining side-by-side. I quickly gulp, sensing fear rising up to my throat, so I take my risk and jump, as I've heard no cannons and expect nothing bad to happen. Falling through space, unable to breathe properly, the momentum bringing me down, I feel my body becoming more and more heated, my arms being stung as they burn.

Following suit, all the other tributes jump, except for the One boy, who I see nowhere in the sky. When we all make it into the colors, something appears – a world of some sort, something different. It's not Earth, not our regular planet, but inside of the Earth...

When I land, my knees crash against a second pedestal, bruising them as my shorts aren't long enough to cover up my naked skin, and I gasp for air. The crash hurts like hell, but I'm still alive. Everyone is. I look around, hearing the sound of wind picking up. I peer up, and seven flying saucers zoom right past me, four of them attacking the other three. One of them is exploded with a blast, the debris scattering around, and all of a sudden my mind becomes blank.

The cornucopia lies in the center of the Bloodbath area, and I feel so lost. It's silver this year, replicating a small home. There are multiple openings that allow us to get in and out quickly, including a stairway that has an opening for you to jump from, and scattered around it are items such as weapons, backpacks, sleeping bags, etcetera.

Behind the cornucopia, way behind, are mountains and hills of all kinds, all brushed and laced with beautiful palm trees that scatter the Arena. Rainbows dominate the sky, as you can see one after the other after the other. It's incredibly beautiful and peaceful, and there are smooth noises of water crashing against the land and such. Even birds are chirping and music of some sort is playing – it sounds tribal-like.

Up in the sky, the hole that we all fell through begins to close up as something falls. Everyone looks up at the crashing item soaring through the blue sky, red and orange spectrum lights blasting through it.

Finally, the item lands right next to me, and as he groans, the One boy turns around hysterically. ''What the fuck is going on?'' he asks, staring all around.

Making this entire situation even weirder, the Gamemakers decided to cave us in. Literally, a giant cave wall opens up and traps us all in, only leaving a tunnel to go through. And this happens right as I see a crystal in the sky, perhaps on a building of some sort. Small boulder carvings from the ground are held up as well, with items attached to them for tributes who want to get something sorta useful and get out, but I bet they have way bigger plans that that.

The cave walls start to divide the tributes up into six different hemispheres, leaving only four tributes per area, making space tightly compacted. I stare back and forth, looking for whatever ounce of luck that I have to get the hell out of here. Next to One, the little girl from Nine is losing her mind, scared like shit.

Finally, at the end of the cave, a shadow quickly runs past us. ''The fuck?!'' One calls out. Something behind us runs, too, leaving me shivering. My thoughts are becoming scattered, not being able to control what I want to think about, and my breathing isn't steady anymore. I'm unable to calm myself down and breath properly, but then I hear it – his voice again.

''Fuck it, I don't care,'' One says, calling out the Gamemakers. ''Bring it on!''

And just as he does say that, a boulder falls down, right behind us. Something is squished, the squelching sound of skin ripping making me want to vomit, blood forming on the ground, as a small, dark-skinned hand is the only thing left moving – twitching. In it is a long hunting spear, but it soon gives in after merely pushing the boulder off of itself. ''What strength,'' I want to say, but I'm at a loss for words.

When the spear rolls onto the ground, out of the thing's hands, the One boy, glancing behind his shoulder, smiles menacingly. That's when I know – I just know – that someone's dying within seconds, whether it's me, the girl next to him, or Three over here.

 _''Ladies and gentlemen, let the One Hundred and Seventy-Sixth Annual Hunger Games begin!''_

* * *

 **A/N: Ayee! Bet you weren't expecting this update. Most of y'all probably thought I've given up on this story, huh? If so, nah, I'm getting back into the flow of this shit. After reading a couple of updated stories that I'm following, and realizing that I'm on Winter Break and don't have to worry about school for a while now, I thought updating would be a good idea. Now, not gonna promise quick updates, because Winter Break for me means turning tf up and chilling with friends, wildin' out and doing hoodrat shit, so I hope y'all understand. But I'm really liking the flow again, and I really want this story to start picking up again. Reasons why the updates have been slow is because school, which sucks, but hey, gotta do good, and because after a while, writing the Pre-Games gets boring. You just want to get into killing the tributes already and making the readers hate you, love you, etc., you feel?**

 **Anyway, this chapter was kinda lazy. The Interviews would have been way more detailed for most of these tributes, but writing all of this was getting way too long and I got tired, which is why I didn't save Launch until next chapter. No way in Hell was I going to wait another chapter that would have taken me months to complete in order to enter the Games, so yeah, the Launch chapter can smd. I'm pretty sure you'd all rather get straight into the Games after this long of waiting, too. I know we got to see like, nothing of the Launch, like tribute interactions and bull crap, but I'll try to recap that in a few chapters. And for certain tributes, I'm sorry to their authors, I've been a lazy prick and haven't done everything I had planned to do for them, which is quite ass, I know. But forget it, I'll do my best to carry on from now on. Anyway, hopefully you guys liked the end of this chapter, I really loved writing that part out. OH! And, my proofreading in this chapter is complete and utter shit, so forgive me on that. Anyway, questions!**

* * *

 **Opinions on each POV?**

 **Did you like the Arena introduction? Also, try to guess the Arena if you can. If you do, idk, man, I'll let you choose what you want your tribute to be sponsored or whatever. Anything you'd like that's not too overpowered or whatever, but whatever is fitting for their situation, you feel?**

 **Who do you THINK will die next chapter?**

 **Who do you WANT to die?**

* * *

 **Also, I know about the chapter POV lengths aren't disputed properly or equally or whatever, but there are reasons for that. I promise that won't happen very often unless I REALLY have something big planned for certain tributes in specific chapters, so just chill with me on that for a lil' bit. And chapters will now be shorter, for sure. Unless, yeah, like I said earlier, something big and long (no homo intended) is planned. That's about all for now. I'll do my best to get up the next chapter, but no promises, heh! But yeah, I guess that's it, and I really can't wait to actually start this story after such a long ass break. And, Merry Christmas Eve, hope you guys have a wonderful Christmas tomorrow spending time with family and friends, partying, going out, doing whatever it is that y'all do. I'll see y'all next time, bye! ^-^**


	14. Leave

**Hey, you. Don't skip to the bottom. Please. ._.**

* * *

 **Bloodbath:**

* * *

 **Adonis DiMae, District One**

* * *

 _Sixty..._

The timers begin counting down. I stretch my neck out, cracking it along with my fingers, ready to make my move. Look left, look right, I eye each and every tribute in this hemisphere. Unfortunately, none of them look back, but I do catch a glimpse of the Nine girl peeking.

''Oh, lighten up,'' I say, taking a step back, letting my heel rest against the curb. _Fifty... Forty-five... Forty..._ ''Just run, okay?'' I give a word of advice. ''Don't look back, don't stop, don't even think about anything other than escaping – if you do, that's it for you, I can assure that.''

 _Thirty-five..._ the clock hits. _Thirty..._ Only half a minute remaining, until blood is shed. Tightening my fists, I get ready to pump my arms and legs forward. Nine over here starts to break down, though, tears streaming down her cheeks. I sigh, trying to ignore her.

 _Twenty... Fifteen... Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven... Six..._

 _''Five,''_ I count down, waiting for the horns to sound.

 _Four... Three... Two..._

A bead of sweat rolls down my temple, my body becoming stiff. I'm actually here, actually doing this.

 _One... Zero..._

And all Hell breaks loose. The other three tributes all start running, screaming before I even make a move, thinking that I'd be looking to kill them with my hands, but I do the opposite. Quickly turning around, I run and grab the spear on the floor, paying no attention to the blood stains.

Slowly, I rub my fingers along the blade, weighing the spear and tightening my grip on its wooden surface. It's not a javelin, but it'll do. A smile creeps onto my face, but not because I'm happy to end these kids' lives, but because I'm the first to get hold of a weapon as of now.

Looking up, I see the Seven boy zooming down the cave, the Three girl following right after him – but she stops slowly, skidding her feet on the pebbly floor, using one of the boulders to stop her momentum. She quickly flings a bag over her shoulder and searches for a second bag, finding a dull, useless knife and an empty water canister inside of it.

Tossing the rest of the bag away, she begins looking around for an opening, but there is none other than the end of the cave. When she reaches it, though, she's completely gone.

The only two left are me and Nine, who's barely able to catch her footsteps. She trips on her own two feet, making barely any progress. There's only about a fifty feet distance between her and I, but I'm pretty sure that I can impale her from here.

I can bet my life on it.

I crouch down, grabbing two pebbles and tossing one of them at the walls on purpose, resonating a bouncing sound to catch her attention. When that doesn't work, I hurl the second one right past her, watching as it lands right in front of her feet, causing her to falter in her movement.

Frightened, she turns around, her face covered in tears, her lips trembling, her hair disheveled and slopped all over her face. Her palms are sweaty and her breathing is ragged, but I make sure to let her get a clear shot of her death.

Flexing my arm and flicking my wrist, I send my spear soaring through the air like a falcon, observing it spiral like a frisbee, when it pierces right through her forehead and protrudes out the other side of her head. A nasty, skin-crunching sound is heard, leaving me with goosebumps as I scratch my arms.

Slowly walking towards her limp, lifeless body, I stare into her glazed, open eyes and shake my head, pulling the spear out as I step on her chest.

''Idiot,'' I say under my breath, feeling annoyed by her stupidity. ''I told you to run.''

* * *

 **Cassia Abbey, District Five**

* * *

Okay, I know I'm not the brightest tool in the shed, but I can survive this. Pumping my arms and legs with adrenaline, I take off in a sprint, being the second person in my hemisphere to pass through the cave, right after the Three boy.

I follow his movements for a few moments, watching as he heads straight for the Cornucopia, dodging obstacles along his way there. The boulders that stick up from the ground make reaching the Cornucopia difficult, especially with all the other tributes competing with you to get there first.

Looking around, I spot a bag only a few feet away from me and jolt towards it – unfortunately, the dark-skinned boy from Eleven runs right past me and swoops it up, coming out of a different hemisphere.

''Ugh! Come on,'' I groan, fussing over a bag that was rightfully mine. He pays no attention to me and aims for the Cornucopia as well, where all the good stuff is.

Looking around, I see many small bags that I could easily swipe up and get the hell out with, but what's the point in that? Would it even be worth it if I just got something that's small and useless instead of one of the bigger bags that could contain food and water and maybe even a knife? Was that earlier event even worth it?

No way am I gonna let this opportunity up. Cassia's going all the way, baby. I nod my head and start to run, pushing myself off of the boulders to gain more feet. While running, I stare up at the sky, eyeing the beautiful rainbows that repeat and seem to be endless. I swallow the spit in my throat and remember that I have something to do.

People in the Capitol have said things about me not being too keen on things, or maybe I'm not the most focused, but today, I'm proving them all wrong. If watching film and speaking to my Mentor taught me anything, it's that the best things are hidden deep inside, and you have to fight in order to get through.

So when I reach the Cornucopia, I'm not so surprised to see a streak of white flying towards me. Quickly, and don't ask me how, but somehow it happens – I duck down and fall to the floor, barely managing to avoid a silver sword being swung. The weapon takes off some of my hair; I see the little pieces float onto the rough ground beneath me.

''Hey!'' I shout, cursing the tribute who swung under my breath. When I stare up, I see the Three boy looking down at me with strange eyes. He lifts the sword above his head, but I kick at his ankle and cause him to fall mercilessly.

Getting up, I run into the deepest parts of the Cornucopia, watching as a few other tributes dare to enter. The Four girl grabs a silver spear and chuckles to herself, looking all over for something specific. She's unable to find it and begins searching around the walls, screaming, until her and I meet eyes.

The only thing that possibly saved me at this moment was probably the voice of another tribute. ''Come here!'' someone yells, drawing the attention of Four. But as I turn to run, something is sent hurling at me. I can hear it flying, so I drop to the floor, seeing the spear cling itself to the wall.

Doing my best to get away, thanking the holy spirits above for granting me an opportunity at escape from the girl who looks like she never misses, I scatter onto my feet and rush up the stairs.

''Get back here!'' I hear, but it's not her – it's the Three boy again, chasing after me with fury in his eyes.

He climbs up the steps faster than I could have imagined, reaching me in a short amount of time. I run towards the walls, looking to grab a shimmering knife, only to be stopped by his hand grabbing a lock of my hair. _I was right there! My fingertips brushed against the knife, I was so close!_

Luck is supposedly on my side, though, as a knife is also on the floor, wide open and easy for me to intercept. My boot catches a hold of the weapon and, as I'm struggling to get free, I inch it closer to me. The first thing that I do when I grab the knife is stab it into his knee, which makes him let out an emotional roar, but he still won't let go!

Doing the only thing left that I can do, I use the knife to cut straight through my blonde hair, freeing his hand from my body instantly. He lets out a grunt of annoyance as I get up and kicks his left leg into my back, causing me to trip forward and fall off of the open balcony, landing in an awkward position that causes my legs to crack in pain when my body lands on the floor with a large thud.

My hair is all over the place, but that's not even the issue. For once in my life, I see just how dire the situation I'm truly in is – my predicament isn't like it's always been, but it's much more serious now. I never understood how precious life was until now, and I'm regretting so much!

''Finally,'' I hear him breathe, as he lowers himself smoothly off of the balcony, unlike me. Raising his sword, he gives me a sad smile, ready to deliver the final blow, until he's stopped.

''No, I'll do it,'' the Two boy interrupts.

''What? B-But, I'm trying to prove mysel—''

''You've already proven yourself,'' Two, Atlas, admits. ''Besides, she's suffered enough at your hands. I'll end this quickly.''

Forcing my head up, wanting to plead, to bargain for my life, to ask them to let me join their alliance and forget about this entire situation, I realize that it's too late. What help am I to them if both my legs are broken, and I'm nowhere near their skill level? How does beauty help them, and even if it did, they'd off me eventually – I'd be the first of the pack gone.

''...Promise?''

''I promise,'' he says, truthfully.

And he didn't let me down.

* * *

 **Avery Billings, District Ten**

* * *

The pack's strategy coming in was to scatter and trap the tributes inside, but it looks like no one's doing what they're supposed to do... I mean, look at them! Four of them are inside of the Cornucopia, all looking for something. Clarice is flipping shit, Emil's panting and looking for something to fix his wounds, Atlas is removing his katana from some girl's back, and Sigrid is just arriving.

 _Where are the other three, though?_ Just as that thought crosses my mind, I hear scrubbing coming from a couple of feet away. Turning around, I see a streak of red tainted on the floor as Adonis drags some little girl by her hair, a deep, nasty gash in the back of her head. He subtly, and respectfully, places her body on the ground, letting her rest in peace.

 _How sweet,_ I think to myself. Really, though, I couldn't care less about that girl's life. Adonis notices me staring at him, but then he turns his head and starts pointing to the left of me. ''Maybe you should accommodate those three,'' he suggests.

Spotting the alliance of tributes, I smile sickly sweet with Adonis' consideration. How evil Careers can be, I absolutely love it. There were four knives that I collected when I was scanning the area; four knives, three tributes – those are as good of chances that I'll get as of now, so, ''Fuck it, why not?''

I recognize the three tributes as the girl from Three, the boy from Eight, and the girl from Eleven. They're heading towards a small jungle area that's nothing but trees. I turn around, close enough to the caves that most of us just escaped through, watching as the insides cave in and the rubble crashes down. There are these stony items hanging out that allow me to climb up to the top of the caves, and I use it as an advantage, no matter how high they are.

When I reach the top, I see just how small the jungle actually is – on the west side, at least. Behind the jungle is a weird Utopian kingdom of some sort, with lights and buildings and so much more... It's hard to see, but there's a crystal on top of it. My vision's not the best at this distance, but I've got some sort of view on whatever that is.

''Cathodette, hurry up!'' I hear, breaking me free from my trance. The Nine boy, worried and geeky, runs to pull his ally forward.

''Why?'' she says, basically giving up. ''I don't care anymore. The fear is real, but it wouldn't be so bad if I died, you know? I have nothing to go back home to... Only suffering awaits me there.''

The boy raises his hand in superiority and slaps the girl in the face, yelling at her. ''Can you stop talking like that for ten minutes, PLEASE?! I'm tired of the same stupid talk; this is your life we're speaking of here! You're willing to throw that away because of some shitty past? Get over it, we need to get out of here!''

Too bad. Jumping off of the cave, I land a few feet away from the two tributes, meeting the eyes of the District Eleven girl who's mouth becomes agape. Taking off of my heel, I hear a loud gasp, using that jump to augment the power of my swing.

One of my knives crashes into something rough and bumpy. Peering up, I see the Eleven girl stepping in between her partners, raising her bag, allowing me to cut it open and watch the supplies pour out like water. There's a sickle in her hand that she uses to deflect my second attack, the sound of our two metals clashing together resonating the sounds that fill up the beautiful, action-packed air.

I see sparks flying as we go back and forth, swinging at one another. Lowering my gaze and looking at her seriously, I pay no attention to her surprised allies. ''H-Help...!'' she calls, finally grabbing their attention. The Eight boy ducks under our weapons, takes out a small knife, and attempts to swing at my neck.

I duck down, leaving my knife pinned up against the girl's sickle, and throw myself at her legs, bringing her down. On top of her now, I press one hand against her face, smothering her head into the ground, trying to kill at least one of them as quickly as possible. With two people fighting me, one of them being a predictable child, I think I can end up winning.

But then the boy uses his shirt and wraps it over my head, pulling it back right at the base of my neck, taking me down. I start choking, coughing and struggling for air, until he lets me go and I regain my strength. Coughing out wildly, I spit at the items on the floor, wanting to kill all three of these bastards already.

Rising up to my feet, I hear ''Oof!'' and feel a body collide with mine. The girl from Eleven's eyes tremble as her arms both stick out, and the boy from Eight looks confused as my grip locks vice tight around his shoulders, holding him near me. ''Ceres?''

Three's eyes constrict faster than I've ever seen anyone's eyes do before, and she lashes out to grab the Eight boy, but her ally grabs her arm and pulls her back, yelling at her.

''CLARENCE! CLARENCE, NO!'' she screams, reaching out for the lost boy, just as I take the knife that he attacked me with and my own, and stab them both individually into one of his shoulders each. The knives dig deep into his shoulders, causing a bellowing shriek to escape his bruised lips.

''CLARENCE!''

''NO, NO!'' Eleven screams, grabbing her ally's waist and tossing her backwards. ''He's gone! Leave it alone, we gotta get the fuck out of here!''

''NO, YOU BETRAYED HIM—!'' Three screams, before her mouth is clasped shut. Eleven pulls her partner back, despite the struggles, and soon the two disappear off into the forest, away from their dying partner.

''...no,'' he whimpers, unable to believe it. ''They... They left me?''

''Yup!'' I laugh, ripping the knives out, smiling as he shrieks once more. Sadistically, I brandish both knives across his neck softly, drawing only a hint of blood.

''NO! THEY COULDN'T HAVE, HOW COULD THEY?'' he screams and squirms, doing the most to get away. Despite his shoulder injuries, he tries to roll away on the ground, scratching his body against the pebbly surface. ''I TRUSTED THEM! I PROMISED TO STAY WITH THE ALLIANCE UNTIL OUR DEMISE, UNTIL WE FELT THE TIME TO LEAVE WAS RIGHT!''

''Hate to break it to ya, kid, but not everything you want in life comes true,'' I yawn.

''SO MUCH SHIT HAS HAPPENED! I'VE LOST A FRIEND, I'VE BEEN BETRAYED BY MY OWN MOTHER, AND I'VE NEVER HAD A GOOD LIFE DUE TO TRAGEDIES. WHENEVER THINGS WERE LOOKING UP, SOMETHING BROUGHT ME BACK DOWN TO REALITY! BUT HERE.. Here... I-I thought something was different, I thought that maybe I could fit in, that I didn't have to hide and be rude to everyone, that I'd met people that I could trust... But what do they do?''

''She,'' I correct. ''What did _she_ do?''

''She betrayed me, and let me fall into the hands of my killer.''

''Hey, that's not true,'' I smile at him. ''Listen, I like you, kid. I really feel for you. If I was betrayed like that, I'd want to get revenge as soon as possible if I still lived, so why don't I cut you a deal and ask the others to let you into the pack. Once that's arranged, we'll target your ass of an ally and let you kill her slowly. Deal?''

He's silent for a minute straight, staring at me in disbelief. Maybe he believes that he has a shot at living, that he's not entirely dead just yet. When his lips quiver and his eyes become watery, I rip all of the hope that I gave him away from his soon-to-be lifeless body.

''Psyche! What type of buffoonery is that?'' I ask, not expecting an answer, as I pull his head back with his hair and carve my knife into his skull. He screams, his voice filled with anguish and agony. There's a look of disgust in his eyes, as my knife peels back the skin of his head, leaving the ligaments exposed.

It's not deep enough to see bone, but the clarity of his insides are beautiful. Laughing as I carve deeper and deeper, I stick my tongue out, using the second knife to peel off even more skin, switching back and forth between the two.

Soon, his flesh is all gone and only blood and bone remain, but he's still breathing, still suffering.

Looks like he still has a ways to go. Too bad for him, though, because I enjoy this.

And I don't plan on finishing any time soon.

* * *

 **Sigrid Lappiere, District Two**

* * *

''Where are they?'' I mutter under my breath, looking back and forth for a pair of butterfly swords. I see katanas, throwing knives, axes, hammers, and a whole bunch of other weapons, but there are no butterfly swords.

Stepping over the girl from Five's dead body, making note of the gash in the center of her back, I accidentally kick small pebbles into her cyan-colored face, her eyes wide open with disbelief. I've got a large bag already heaved over my shoulder, but still no weapons. Since nothing's down here, I should probably check upstairs.

Using the handle rails on the left side of the Cornucopia, I throw myself up to the second floor, looking around frantically for my weapons of choice. There, at the end of a corner, I see two butterfly swords paralleling each other. Jogging over there, I rip the two swords off of the wall, measuring them both in my cold hands.

They're at least eighteen inches each, and the cold steel rests against the palm of my hands with ease. Climbing down from the second floor, carefully watching the chaos below me, I see a boy hiding behind a crate of weapons, waiting for an opening to grab something and go.

I travel in silence, listening to the sounds of screaming and struggling tributes filling up the broken air, shaking my head in whatever it is I'm feeling. I don't know how to describe it, but I ignore this weird notion in my head and try to keep my footfalls as silent as possible.

Nearing the boy, watching his head turn left and right and finally, he slowly turns around, when my shadow casts over him. Launching himself away, trying to escape, I stomp on his leg forcefully, making him yell ''Arghh!'' Twirling the blades in my hand as I apply more weight onto his foot, I lean in forward to make my kill.

With a display of sudden strength, he kicks out his other foot and trips me, rolling up to his feet in a hobble and landing on my legs to keep me down. Feeling annoyed, I curve one of my swords downward and stab it into his hand.

He flies backward, screaming in agony as the knife exits through his palm but remains in his hand. Angrily, but scared, he rips the sword out and throws it on the floor. ''Stop!'' he shouts, pleading for his life. ''You don't have to do this, you know? Just let me go; hunt after another tribute!'' He forces a quivering smile.

''I know that I don't _have_ to do this, but it's required if I wanna go home; it's required in order for any of us to go home,'' I clarify. ''And what good is letting you escape if I have you at my mercy?''

''But I want to go home, yet you don't see me trying to kill others!''

''I understand that, but—''

''Stop talking!'' he screams, and I obey, trying to be friendly and proper before I end this. ''Just what the hell is wrong with you?!'' he asks, trying to make me feel guilty. ''You guys just enjoy doing this?''

Remaining quiet, I inch closer and closer to him, trying to confirm who he is. The Seven on his padded shoulder lets me know just who exactly. I close my eyes for just a quick second, letting a cold breath escape my lips, when little bottles of medicine hit me in the face.

He's taking everything out of a bag, with both of his hands, and throwing the items contained in them at me, despite the pain. I look down at him, noticing that he has no weapon for defense, my face stony and harsh, when I continue, grabbing my blood-covered sword from the ground. At this moment, it's as if his brain has shut down. He's clammy and a glisten of cold sweat drips down his nose. His eyes turn wide when I deliver the final blow, searching for someone to help him, but nobody else can see.

His movements become more frantic as my sword, with a disgusting amount of fluidity, sinks into his trachea, forcing blood to squirt out all over his outfit. He tries to speak, but only gurgles come out.

''Shh,'' I say, using the tip of my boot to press the knife down further, making his death much quicker. His arm pulsates one last time, right before his eyes slowly close and his head leans to the side. When it's all said and done, I take my sword out of his flesh, feeling unfazed with the sound.

''Sigrid!'' I hear a voice call out my name – a familiar voice, at that. Through my peripheral vision, I see Clarice motioning me forward, a look of amusement on her face. Slowly approaching, I raise an eyebrow, expecting something comical to come out of her mouth, but she points forward at a group of three tributes waiting on an ally. ''Help me take them out?''

I shrug, willing to do whatever it takes to ensure my survival and the demise of others. ''Come on, say something!'' she groans.

''Yes, I'll help you take them out,'' I decide, taking the lead. Hurling the backpack away from me, I jog after the three tributes, making sure that my boots don't attract too much attention. On my way towards them, the Seven girl runs right in front of me, knocking me down along with herself.

She groans, looking furious until she sees who she's bumped into. Her eyes descend onto my weapons, staring at the glistening blood, and then she quickly scrambles up to her feet and runs away from me, holding an axe out in defense and keeping a backpack locked tight against her back, and one against her chest for safety precautions. _Little does she know that the blood belongs to her District Partner._

I boost myself up, rubbing my head. Something doesn't feel right. I'm a few feet away from the three other tributes, and one of them sees me, but he doesn't look afraid – he looks shocked. That's when I get a gut-wrenching feeling in my stomach, and my mind tells me to turn around and jump back.

A whirling noise inches closer to me, and just as I turn around, I bring forward my butterfly knives, blocking Clarice's spear as it falls near my throat. My eyes dilate and I stare at her in confusion. ''Bastard!'' I bite. ''I should've known a scum like you was gonna betray an ally.''

''Coming from you? Oh, bite me!'' she retorts. Retreating the spear back, tossing it to her left hand, she ducks down, rips a knife out of her boot, and aims for my chest. I jump back, spacing out my arms, growling as my hair flows right past my vision. This little mishap gives her an opportunity to strike at me once more, and blood is drawn from my forearms.

The stinging sensation makes me wince, but this pain is nothing compared to what we _should_ experience. Weakening my grip, I cough. ''I'm surprised nobody died in that little fall.'' Staring her dead in the eyes, I say, ''I was hoping that when the cave formations formed, you would've been shook off your plate and blown up.''

''I was hoping the exact opposite – in fact, I was actually dying to have this moment all to myself. You don't know how bad I've been itching to kill you.''

''And why is that, if I may ask?''

''Because you're an annoying, hypocritical pig who thinks that she runs shit! Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I'm gonna murder you. I fucking hate you!''

I instinctively duck out of the way just as she thrusts her spear forward, scratching a bit of my skin through my torn Aztecan-style shirt. Growling, I fight back, elbowing her straight in the jaw, causing her to bite down on her tongue and draw blood. My feet slap against the ground as I run forward, placing a sword inside of my skirt, and throwing a fist at her face, aiming for her temple.

Stumbling backward, she leaves her mouth wide open, her eyes distant. ''You've got it all wrong if you think you're beating me.''

''Bet,'' I challenge.

The group of tributes' footsteps that I thought that we were after grow further and further away, letting me know that they're gone. I lose concentration for a brief moment, wondering if any other Careers notice that I'm fighting Clarice, but we're in an open space that's farther away from every other tribute. I curse at her, growing angry.

Clarice kicks out her leg, and I jump over it, hovering in the air for mere seconds before I swing one of my swords forward. She looks shocked, finding no way to escape, when the blade enters her shoulder. She cries out in pain, wincing on the floor, as I step over her.

She gasps from the blow, the impact throwing her off her A-Game, and her head crashes into the ground with a loud blow. ''I—'' she says, panting, grabbing my arm and ripping the sword out of her shoulder manually— ''want you—'' she breathes. ''—DEAD!''

A sudden gust of energy rises from her, making her look almost like an animal – like a feline. She gets up from underneath me, catching me off guard, and punches me in the jaw. I can see her coming from miles away, predicting her next moves as my head jolts backwards – it's a move that every Career should expect – as she uses her weight to lean her spear forward, but I counter it by directing my sword straight at her forehead, piercing her skin and drawing plenty of blood. She falls to the floor, sprawled under me, and I think that it's over.

Rule Number One: Never let your guard down; it's the first thing that every Career learns, and I completely ignore it. While breathing harshly, I suspect that she's dead, but a cut across the head isn't enough to kill anyone unless they're extremely fragile – I know that, but I still fuck up.

She bounces back up in a hurry and shoulder tackles me, knocking me down and out for the count. Before I can push her off of me, she thrusts her knife into my stomach, twisting and pulling out my insides. Over and over again, back and forth, the pain feeling like it'll never end.

My body is burning with white hot pain, like fire is engulfing me. My vision becomes blurry, tears – no, emotions – beginning to form at the corner of my eyes. I close them only for a second, but I'm unable to reopen them. An ear-piercing scream escapes my lips, but only for a few seconds. Then I shut up.

''I always get what I want,'' is the last thing I hear before nothing seems to make sense anymore.

And pain is the last thing that I ever feel.

* * *

 **Zeppelin Cross, District Four**

* * *

I parry an attack from the District Eight girl, using my quarterstaff to knock her knife free from her hands. My weapon smacks against her knuckles but she shows no sign of a reaction, even though her skin is peeled off and producing blood.

I frown, ready to strike again, deciding whether I wanna really do this or not, when a high-pitched scream distracts me. The Eight girl takes her opening to run away, sprinting and dodging all of the obstacles on her way to freedom, never looking back at me and carrying a small backpack with her.

The only thing that I can think about is Sigrid, because that's _her_ voice. I know that for a fact, and whether or not I'm just hearing things, something causes my stomach to bubble up, but I ignore it. _No, forget whatever it is. Don't worry about anyone, just focus on what you came here to do._

Swallowing down my pride, I turn my head to the left, and to my surprise, the little girl from District Twelve hangs around the Cornucopia, behind the nearest boulder, waiting for a chance to run into the home of supplies. I feel scared for her, my mind unable to think of a solution to this problem.

It wouldn't be smart to ignore her because there are dozens of cameras around here, and they all see me looking at her. She turns around slowly, a pool of sweat dripping from her forehead. The young girl and I lock eyes, and she runs a hand through her hair, teeth tugging at her cracking lower lip.

''Go...!'' I whisper, motioning for her to leave, but she stands still, frozen. I want her to leave, but she's not complying. Someone's gonna see her, and I'm already ruining my chances of survival and sponsors by trying to help her.

''Careers!'' I hear, snapping my head around. Atlas, Emil and Avery hut together in a circle, looking around for the rest of us. Emil waves me forward, telling me to come over. Looking around, I'm about to ask where all the others are until Blush and Adonis come out from boulders on the far right, Adonis smiling and Blush looking displeased.

''So...'' Avery trails. ''How many kills did we rack up?''

''I killed the girl from Five,'' Atlas claims.

''Yeah, but she was mine at first, 'till I was rudely interrupted,'' Emil says.

''Yes, because you'd already injured her, and could you have really done it? You were frightened to even hold the sword, let alone actually bring it down on her head.'' Emil and Atlas both go quiet after that statement, a weird tension making us all feel uncomfortable.

''Two kills so far, 'cuz I took out the Nine girl in the beginning, while we were in the cave,'' Adonis begins, avoiding the tension. ''First blood.''

''And how'd you do that?'' Blush asks.

''This weird creature thing that I thought was a tribute at first had a spear in his hand, until he was crushed by falling rocks. So, while everyone else was running, I took it, distracted the girl, and let's just say it landed in her head.''

''But I thought you were a javelin user?''

''Guess I do good with both weapons; they're pretty similar, to be honest.''

''Well, I got none,'' Blush puffs.

''Shocker,'' Avery says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

''Oh, yeah? And what did you do?''

''I split the Eight boy's head open and revealed bone, that's what I did,'' he growls at her, becoming hostile all of a sudden. ''And I'll do the same to you if you don't shut up with that attitude of yo—'' he stops himself, recollecting his cool. ''I saw the boy from Seven dead with a cut in his throat, so I'm assuming that one of you did it?'' Everyone remains quiet. ''No? I mean, the cut looked like something a sword-shaped weapon would conflict.''

''It was probably Sigrid, she uses butterfly swords,'' Atlas confirms. ''Speaking of Sigrid, where is she?''

''And Clarice,'' I ask, joining in the conversation for the first time.

''Don't know, but I saw them running after an alliance,'' Adonis says. ''They looked pretty steady on killing all four of the tributes, so maybe they're killing them as we speak?''

''Possibly,'' Emil sighs. ''This whole thing sucks.''

''What does?''

''This!'' he calls out, looking at the horrid bodies lying on the ground. My breathing becomes normal again, seeing as we're all talking to each other, which leaves the Twelve girl, who I hope is smart enough, to realize that she has an option to run away. ''The bodies, the mutilation... It's all disgusting as fuck!''

''Those are the types of things you get to see when you're a Career, kid,'' Atlas frowns. ''You gotta live it down, though, or else it'll consume you.''

''Oh, I'll live it down, alright,'' he retorts. ''All of Panem will watch me live it down. I'll show them all just who I am and what I can do. The glory of all their eyes on me, watching right now as I speak, just makes me feel... oozy and satisfied on the inside.''

''Hey!'' Clarice's voice yells from afar, and we all turn around, watching her skid to a slow stop. Her attention goes from us to the back of a boulder that we're all in front of, which makes me feel nervous.

Trying to distract her, I ask, ''Clarice, what's that on your head? And where's Sigrid?''

She tenses up for a moment, but then shakes her head. ''I don't know,'' she says, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. ''We were going after a group of tributes when all of a sudden I bumped into the girl from Seven. She tried to kill me, and we got into a fight. Her axe cut open a wound in my head, and it burns. I tried to kill her, but she got away, and I lost Sigrid, so I don't know if she's still out there fighting or what – but if she is, the odds aren't in her favor because it'd be four against one...''

''That's odd...'' Blush crosses her arms together, tightening the grip on her knife. ''I was fighting with the Seven girl. That's how I got this wound in my thigh; she fucking stabbed me, but you were fighting her, too..?''

''Yeah!'' Clarice responds, a little too quickly. ''But maybe I was fighting her after she escaped you, you never know.''

''But I was literally just fighting her.''

''Okay, then maybe before you.''

''That's not possible because I've been targeting her from the get-go. Granted, I lost her for a minute or so, but I doubt your confrontation lasted less than thirty seconds. Are you lying to us?''

Realizing that she's losing the verbal banter, Clarice changes the topic. ''That's not important. What is important is who's behind that boulder next to you, Zep.''

My pulse becomes thready all of a sudden, knowing what's about to come. A small squeal is heard, and the entire alliance shuffles their feet, beginning to move forward. ''What are you talking about?'' I fake. ''There's nobody else left besides us. You gotta lay off of whatever it is you're smoking.''

''No, there's a little girl behind that boulder,'' she insists, pointing to my right.

I turn around, trying to look like I don't understand. Checking the wrong boulder on purpose, I sense Clarice getting angrier. ''Zep, turn the fuck around! The girl is right there,'' she yells, forcing me to look. The rest of the Careers all begin moving quicker, looking to hunt down the tribute.

''She's mine!'' I hear Blush say, followed by a fuss of emotion coming from everyone else. ''I deserve a kill after this bullshit.''

''Why don't we all just team on her?'' Emil suggests, gaining positive responses from everyone.

''Actually, no!'' Clarice growls. ''Let Zep get the kill, he's the closest to her, and we don't need all of us cornering her when it's one puny kid.''

I feel all of them staring at me, so I gotta go now – I'm the leader, and what would I look like to them if I didn't do what I came here to do, what I'm supposed to do? So, when I reach the girl and she starts scuffling away, I become heated with anger.

''I swear to God, if you let her escape like that other bitch...'' Avery threatens.

Looking down at her, I raise my quarterstaff up into the air, curving it at the perfect angle to pierce her heart. Her eyes dilate, and before she's able to scream, I whisper, ''I'm sorry.''

The metal blade of my quarterstaff shimmers in the sunlight, right before it hits her in the heart, puncturing her skin and cutting off all circulation of blood and oxygen throughout her body. Her eyes go dull, fluttering furiously as she struggles to gain breath. Within seconds, her body gives in and she dies. Her death was quick. Unlike the other tributes, her death wasn't gruesome. There's no blood pooling around a certain area of her body, just blood soaking on her Aztecan cloth. It's nice, actually...

Her body looks so peaceful in her eternal sleep, but my heart aches. Deciding between who lives and who dies is on our hands – on my hands, and concluding on a choice, for me, is the hardest thing to do.

This is the first of many lives that I'll claim, and I hate myself for it. Almost to the point that I wanna cry, but this is for the District, right?

Patriotism still doesn't make it feel right.

* * *

 **24th - Rhea Mandelle, District Nine**

 **23rd - Cassia Abbey, District Five**

 **22nd - Clarence Loom, District Eight**

 **21st - Fidan Blanchett, District Seven**

 **20th - Sigrid Lappiere, District Two**

 **19th - Ceres Golovin, District Twelve**

* * *

 **flowersnowgirl, Thank you for sending Rhea my way. She was a great character from the beginning, so precious and pure, but in reality, I just couldn't see her going any further than the Bloodbath. She was the type of tribute to, if she did make it past, throw herself into insanity in my eyes. If I had brought her any further, it would've been death by suicide or a mutt attack, which I didn't really want for her. Taking that turn would've made me feel weird for writing her that way, so I decided that killing her here was the best option. She just didn't take any help, no matter how hard people tried to help her. It was bad to the point where Mentors were willing to give up on her and let her just toss herself away in the Arena. Although her end was suckish, I enjoyed writing for her. And I don't know if you're still reading this story or not, you've been gone for months, but this decision had nothing to do with your inactivity. I just felt that Rhea was best off being an early death, and whenever you read this, if you do, I hope you're not upset with my decision.**

 **The Emerald Queen, oh, I've been writing for your tributes since the beginning of my ff days. All of them have brought a smile to my face, and I loved each and every single one of them. Cassia... she was great, to be frank. She may have been the stereotypical, ditzy, mall-shopping teen of today's society with rich parents and everything being thrown her way, but writing her POV in this chapter made me feel some type of way. That little sense of realization that she felt in the end made me smile. How she regretted so much and realized that life isn't to be taken for granted, that beauty wasn't everything, that she had a moment of smartness for once in her life. She was independent here, worrying about herself and wanting to do what was best for her, not what Beckett or her Mentors wanted her to do, or what the other tributes did. But instead, she took actions into her own hand, but unfortunately, she wasn't quick enough to escape her situation. Writing this death was hard, but she went out quick. Thanks for submitting.**

 **Everlasting, I remember when I received Clarence. Honestly, the day that I did get him, it made me smile so much. I had been receiving a couple of tributes prior to his submission who didn't pop out to me as much as I had wanted them to, but then when I opened up my mail and read Clarence, a smile crept on my face. He was such an AMAZING tribute, and I don't think other readers will realize that. At times I felt that I didn't portray him as best as I could, that I had failed to show much more of him, but here, I'm kinda satisfied with how I worked with him. My decision of killing him wasn't for anything bad, I felt as if his death would be able to serve a purpose to a few tributes in the story later on. I don't know if many liked him or not, but he, in my opinion, was severely underrated in this story. I hope you're not upset with me killing him off in the Bloodbath, but just saying, if I for some reason end up making another one of these stories, I'd love to receive another tribute from you for sure. Thank you for submitting such a great, detailed, story-filled tribute who I could work with.**

 **Void, ugh! I feel so bad about this. Like, literally. Talking to for a while now, and our little chats about the upcoming death of tributes and shit. You seemed so happy, waiting on this chapter, and I felt like an ass hyping you up because I knew that your tribute would fall this chapter. I didn't wanna act suspect or make anything awkward, so I went along, but I hope you're not mad at me. Fidan was just THAT guy; you know, that one guy who's cheeky and humorous, but is hated on by many. People either like him or they don't, and he found a few who didn't, which came as a shock to him. Fidan, to me, had all the personality in the world, but his personality wasn't enough to help him survive. His death, I hope wasn't too bad, but he was one hell of an interesting guy. The one thing that I'm pissed off about is that I didn't finish what I wanted to do with him. He was supposed to join Kaster's alliance, but then I forgot about all my plans and they hit me literally yesterday, which pissed me tf off, but I had to go on. Things could have been different, but along with Everlasting, if I make another one of these stories, I'd love another tribute from you, as both of you have made two awesome tributes that I've had so little time to work with, but did the best I could with.**

 **stop-pulling-on-mariazell, I'm sorry about Sigrid. She was one of my favorite Careers this year. Very different from the standard girls that I've received, and that really stood out to me. The way she had an input on life, not to trust people, it reminded me of daily life today, how it's so hard to trust others due to backstabbing and just common bullshit that people sell you out for. Her personality was fucking great. Like, honestly, I enjoyed writing her so much. I know people like to say, ''Why do authors kill off tributes that they like so early?'', but I think we all have legitimate reasons for doing so. Her conflict with Clarice wasn't directly stated too many times, but I tried to imply the rivalry and hatred as best as I could. This chapter was honestly going to end up pissing most of you off, I'm guessing, at first, 'cuz I was planning on having Clarice, Blush and Sigrid all get into some heated shit and two of them would've been offed, followed by the other being severely injured and being useless to the alliance, resulting in death, depending on who they were, but that wasn't the way to go. I just felt bad for the girl; the entire family thing, her Mom, her stepmother, the kids, everything was just going bad for her. The Games were her way out, both ways, actually, and the easier way was the one I ended up choosing. Rest In Peace, Sigrid.**

 **Reader... Oh, Reader, how I love you so. So sorry about Ceres. She was such a beautiful character, despite being hated by so many, only seeing her as the common twelve-year-old, wanting something different, I suppose. My reason for killing her off is because I had nothing too major planned for her. She had one ally in Ocelot, but I'll explain that in next chapter as to why what happened did. Her personality is what led to her downfall in the end. She was always so scared, not knowing what to do and stuttering in her speech and movements at times. The girl was cute, but fragile, and I couldn't see her possibly living off in the Games. It'd be a living nightmare for her, and she'd only suffer through so much; such as mutt attacks and other tributes, which wouldn't result well. If I had her die any other way, it would've been to a mutt, because I could not imagine any other tribute too willing to harm her, besides a few obvious ones. Her and Ocelot would've gone through so much trouble together, but she died early, and quickly, so at least her suffering wasn't prolonged. Zep was the only proper person I could think, in that situation, to kill her, because he felt pity for her - not to say the others didn't, but most were wanting another tribute out of the competition, and he.. he didn't know, so if anyone was to kill her, I'm glad it was him. R.I.P. Ceres, she's resting now.**

* * *

 **A/N: Ayee, a quick update! I'm gonna make this A/N short because, yeah, I don't have too much to say. It's the day after Christmas, and like I said last chapter, hope you guys had an awesome day with family and friends. Also hope the presents were satisfactory ;) Onto the questions we go, now!**

* * *

 **Opinions on each POV?**

 **Anyone you expected to die who didn't?**

 **Anyone you expected not to die who did?**

 **Best death and why?**

 **Overall opinion on the chapter?**

* * *

 **That's all for now, guys, hope you enjoyed the chapter! Also, this chapter wasn't so long at first. It was deadass only 6000 words before I did the... whatever it is you call when you mourn these tributes after they die, and then added those line things to divide the POVs. Guess those together add 2000 words? I don't know, but fuck it, it's whatever. Trying to stray from long chapters here, but ff is kicking my ass :) Anyway, hope y'all have a wonderful day, night, whatever time it is over there for y'all. I'll see y'all next time, bye! ^-^**


	15. Surprises

**Day One:**

* * *

 **Vendetta Ischyroe, District Ten**

* * *

He reaches for my throat, using his one arm to try and stab me. Falling back, I duck, using an arm to grab his shirt and throw him away from me. Getting up, I wrap my arms around my body, shivering in the cold.

I volunteered for this thing to not be a killer anymore, but here I am, fighting another tribute to the death and realizing that my decision makes no sense. Spacing myself a couple of feet from him, ignoring his grunts of anger, I look up at the forest. In here, the sky vanishes, with only a few fragments of blue remaining like scattered pieces of an impossible jigsaw puzzle.

The air's rich with the fragrance of leaves and loam, damp, too. ''Don't ignore me!'' he yells, helping me regain my concentration. Shiv held high, he lunges at me, but I stand, at the ready, and swipe my knife up, preparing myself for impact.

Steadying his stance, I catch him looking at my waist, forgetting of his attack. I observed him during our training days, and he always stabbed dummies in the waist, which made him too predictable. Forcing myself backwards just as he bites down and swings, I avoid the knife and watch him fall, sinking the weapon into the bundle of leaves.

 _You don't even want to do this,_ I think to myself. _You're here to live, to survive, but you're doing the same exact thing you've been doing before._

That thought causes me to aim off-track. I flick my wrist, launching the knife into the back of his leg. Something tells me to kill him, to end it already, but my body hesitates, not wanting to continue. Limbs bent at an awkward angle, he looks up at me, biting down the pain.

Blood spurts out of the wound in his leg, but it's not excessive – it's just a small stream, dripping out of his skin, staining the once beautiful autumn leaves. We're meters away from the Cornucopia, but I see him staring back from the direction that he attacked me in, not thinking that matters would fall into my hands.

He crawls away, and I take out another knife, ready to throw it and collect my first kill. But... I don't throw it just yet. I let him get away, only to follow after him a couple of seconds later. ''Get away!'' he screams, the sound of his voice crushing my insides. I've been doing this for my entire life – I even did it before volunteering – so why can't I bring myself to doing it now?

What's different? What's causing me to hold back?

He does an amazing job avoiding me, falling silent, realizing that I'm out of my right state of mind. Hobbling on his one good leg, he tries to fall invisible behind a tree, but the knife leaves my hand again.

Landing in his shoulder this time, I hear that terrifying, reverberating scream of his. Falling to my knees, I shake my head, disgusted with myself but so unsure. Who's watching this right now? Everyone in Panem, my parents, my _brother?_

He knows nothing about the family business, but he's watching me now, seeing me show no signs of obvious remorse for a tribute who's life I could take at this exact moment.

That, I realize, is the main thing pulling me back; it's like I feel his hands grasping me and yelling in my ear, ''No, don't do it!''

I leave the rest of my knives in my pocket patch, looking up with burning eyes. ''Get out of here,'' I warn the debilitated boy.

He leaves without warning, in the absence of a backpack, but it takes him a while to get out of my sight. I've disappointed so many people just now, but I don't care about them. I want to escape my regular roots, but I still have them in me.

The only difference between these kids and the people that I've killed is that I don't have a reason to eliminate them from existence. The others either did something wrong or were a menace to society, roaming the streets freely – but this... this is a shame.

I'm killing for the amusement of horrible people, something that shouldn't be considered at all – something that should be removed from our lives for good.

* * *

 **Taisiya Danshov, District Nine**

* * *

Grunting, I raise my injured arm and scratch my scalp, wincing from the pain in my shoulder. Slowly, I lean my back against a beautiful tree. Clenching my fist, I growl at myself for allowing some stupid injury to keep me from fleeing further away. I barely managed to escape with my life.

It's quiet in the forest; there are no sounds of footsteps falling, no sounds of tributes speaking, or sounds of nature. Occasionally there are bird movements, startling in a tree, or a squirrel dashing up a nearby trunk, but that's not much. The sound of the leaves shuffling underneath my boots has the same hypnotic quality as music, though, and I just want to close my eyes and rest.

I can't, though, unfortunately. _Keep moving,_ I was instructed not too many days ago, but these wounds in my leg and arm limit my movements. It's unsatisfying, really, making me grow angrier. Elbowing my arm into the tree, I tightly close my eyes shut and try to remain quiet.

 _Where are the cannons?_ Suddenly I realize. No cannons have shot out into the sky yet, and it's been well over an hour since the Bloodbath. _Are tributes still fighting? Is something big currently happening? What's taking so long?_

They're obviously unsatisfied with the death count, I'm guessing. Hopefully the next tribute dies already and the day ends soon, because I want to know who I can cross off of my list of tributes to take out – I just _need_ to know how many are left.

My mind suddenly travels to Nikola. What's he thinking back at home? Is he even watching, or thinking of replacing me with someone else? I can't provide my services to him if I don't make it out alive, and he might hate me for that – but I can't let him hate me!

Struggling to get up, I scream, the shiv in my hand being used as a supportive instrument in raising my body, which falls short of standing up, though, and lets me down. ''Shit..!'' I grimace.

I eventually decide to sit quiet and relax, hoping for a sponsor to send some type of medicine my way. I don't know if I'll receive a gift or not, but I won't beg, because I know they hate tributes who beg. It only pisses them off and ache more for the imminent death.

Tilting my head upward and sighing a breath out, I take in the view of the forest once more. It reminds me of one of those places which have no palpable reason to exist. It's just a creaking shack created by nature to serve as a reminder that things could always be much, much worse.

And I feel like things are getting much, much worse as the ground begins to rumble. ''Earthquake?'' I perplex. No, it can't be an earthquake. Not this early in the competition! They can't do that, can they?

Or maybe they're doing this because whatever fight that's going on is taking way too long, but I would expect to hear someone shouting by now. Slowly, the ground stops shaking, coming to a halt. I pick up my breathing, feeling scared, but still, hearing no cannon... ''What is going on?''

''WARGH!'' I hear, disgusting gurgles coming from beneath me. I lean back, watching as the ground suddenly begins shaking again, the leaves becoming displaced from their original positions and being thrown away as if a large gust of wind just appeared. A hand rips through the ground – a disgusting, hairy, dirt-infested hand with nails as long as a wild, carnivorous animal's.

''Welcome to our world!'' one of them snickers, its raspy voice frightening me. Their faces appear along with the rest of their upper bodies, laughing and snorting as they scratch at my clothes. A large nail scratches my chest, leaving a giant laceration there. I feel the blood pouring out of my body, and one of them reaches up to caress my chest, licking the blood off, making me cringe in fear for my life.

The fear sits on me like a pillow over my mouth and nose. I feel multiple pairs of hands touching my body, ripping me apart and dragging me down into the ground. Enough air gets by into my throat and out, allowing my body to keep functioning, but it's crippling all the same – it doesn't feel right!

The scream tears through me like a great shard of glass. I feel my eyes widen and pulse quicken, my heart thudding like a rock rattling in a box. The scream comes again, desperate, terrified, human... Blood drains from my face and pours out of me like a punctured gallon of juice.

My mouth is suddenly cuffed up as I feel a hand clasp over it, my cries for help becoming muffled and inaudible. A dwarf jumps up from the ground, its entire short, laughable body wrapping itself around my head as it sinks its claws in my occipital lobe, making my vision go blurry.

The savage beasts, small, face scattered with moles and freckles, noses big and covered with snot and dirt, all sink their saliva-filled teeth into me at the same time, puncturing every part that's not numb. I feel my body being dragged into the ground, their sharp claws and fangs snagging my remaining leg off.

I hold my hand up to feel the cascading light shining down on me, a brilliant white shaft illuminating the dirt path that takes me onward. The sound of mushy and dead leaves suddenly whisper in my ear, making me chuckle softly in disgust.

In the ground, the dirt filling up my open mouth that's being ripped open by these mutts, I find it particularly more difficult to breathe, but that makes me feel a sense of relief. It'll be over soon. What bothers me most is that I'll never see Nikola again – never be able to tell him how I felt, but I hope I'm not just a memory to him.

It's ironic, though, isn't it? How I was just thinking about the Gamemakers trying to hurry up and have another tribute killed, when in reality, it was the fight between me and the Ten girl that was stirring them up.

I was the one who received the most pain, so they came after me, wanting me to be their little chest piece. They took advantage of me. How cruel.

* * *

 **Sawyer Fira, District Seven**

* * *

Distance is all that matters. I'm not stopping anytime soon until I feel like I'm away from the Cornucopia and all of the bloodshed. I don't look back as wind slaps against my face. The path I take through the meadow is as visible as any trail in fresh snowfall.

The tall grasses, inflexible in their dryness, are flattened from the far hedgerow to the canopy of woodland leaves. Panting, I marvel at my path, so ragged and bent, not at all the straight line that I imagined it would be. There's an intersection with four different trailing roads, which makes me sort of happy. Any tribute who passes by won't know where I went, but what if they all lead to the same place, just making one road shorter or longer than the others?

Risking it, I continue straight, passing through the first trail. Taking a note of my surroundings, I smile when I see the wild flowers as a cacophony of colors on the fading green; purple thistles, blue cornflowers, red poppies and tall asters. Somehow, though, this feels too normal for me, like there's something more, yet I haven't discovered it.

Still moving forward, I take in the endless canvas of tossed up colors in the sky. My running slows down, but I don't come to stop – my pace just turns into a heavy jog. The sky bothers me, though. Like, we just fell from that, and we all survived? It's overflowing with wonders, yet so void at the same time.

It's ever-changing, the various colors of navy blue, lavender, turquoise, and a fiery tangerine painting the large dome above me. I frown at all of the thoughts running through my head, feeling dizzy and angry at the same time.

My legs begin to tire out and hurt as I continue to push myself. At this rate, I'll cramp up and fall soon. But I don't care, I gotta keep going until I can reach a resting area. Luckily for me, up above, I see this enormous cave castle. It's not even funny when I say that this thing is huge!

The cave's height stretches up to the point where I can't see anything behind it besides the endless sky, making me feel nauseated. It stretches out far, too, almost like a great, big wall. Just as I feel my legs giving in, ready to fail me, noises rumble through the air, causing me to stumble over myself, catching me off guard.

 _Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!_

The cannons! Small, loose stones littering the floor cause me to trip as I get closer to the rock face. Coming to view with the cave, I skid on my knees, lucky enough to not get scratched, staring at the muddy brown rock. The stone guarding the entrance is jagged and uneven, arranged in such a way that it's impossible to see it from afar.

Sighing in relief, I fall to the floor, my arms and legs spread out wide, and rejoice my survival. _How many cannons was that?_ I think, making myself shuffle uncomfortably. Seven, if I recall. So seven Bloodbath deaths, or certain deaths that just occurred, most likely. Unfortunate.

Sitting up quickly, I take in just how dark this cave is, and I'm not even fully inside. I see the sharp rocks hanging up in the air, all the way up high, dripping wet with some sort of liquid falling from their tips. There are layers in this cave, up to four, from what I can tell, and they're each pretty lengthy to climb. There might be more up top, but as of now, that's all I can see in the darkness.

Squinting my eyes, I look around for any stalagmites that could be hanging around – and to my surprise, there are a rather unusual variety; they appear to be made of rounded, irregular, hollow cones, which concave upwards.

Moaning in displeasure, I fling my backpack over my head, opening its front pocket and dumping out all of the equipment inside. What I see makes me smile. There's a flashlight that comes packed with extra batteries, two water bottles that are room temperature, a jar of dried fruit – consisting of apples, oranges, blueberries, and strawberries – three nutrition bars, and an extra skirt in here.

Not to mention that I also have my axe with me, so I'm pretty much set. Though, whenever I look down at it, at the girl from One's blood at the end of the handle, realizing that my swing caused her to suffer through a cut in her thigh, I wanna grab my hair and rip it out of my scalp. Why me? Why am I in this stupid ass situation with these stupid ass people who want to watch this?

''FUCK YOU!'' I can't control my mouth, breathing heavily. I try to take my mind off of things by rearranging the equipment back inside my bag, tucking my axe in my skirt and keeping the flashlight alongside me, plus the nutrition bar.

I don't know what it is that I hear, but it sounds like singing and chanting. There's a light brimming from one of the top layers, something like fire, and the voices that I hear growing louder; though, the words that they're speaking don't seem to be English. _Mutts?_ I guess.

Laughing at my situation, I turn my head back and forth. Do I go back out there, in the open and expose myself, or stay in here and avoid those things at all costs and try to reach the other side? Most people wouldn't risk staying in here, but that's what I choose. And that's final, no matter what. I just need a little bit of rest, that's all.

Feeling my body grow heavy, I peel off the wrapper to one of my nutrition bars and munch my way slowly through a mouthful of this stuff. It's dry and doesn't taste the best, but it'll have to do. I sit there, tired as hell, weary with the burden of long-closed eyes. I feel as though energy is constantly being drained out of me, as though I'm leaking electricity.

...So, I close my eyes, falling asleep in an instant.

I'll let the anthem wake me up tonight.

* * *

 **Ceres Morrisey, District Eleven**

* * *

I'm half-convinced that Cathodette no longer wants to keep this alliance, but I need her – we need each other if we want to survive. Strength in numbers, like they usually say... But what numbers do we have?

I want to say something, but when the cannon shots shake the ground, I know to keep my ass quiet. After all, Clarence, most likely, is one of those cannons in the sky, and it's all because of me. I dig my hands into my hair, feeling guilty, but I can't let this hold me down.

 _You killed him!_ Shaking that thought free from my mind, I let out a ''No...'' I always had the plan in my mind, telling myself that I would cut one of my allies off, the lesser one, if it meant that the other one and I would survive – and that so happened to be Clarence, but I didn't... I didn't think I would have to do it so early.

''What?'' Cathodette asks, looking at me with red-rimmed eyes, looking bloodshot. Swallowing, I shake my head, dismissing her question.

''Nothing, I was just thinking to myself,'' I frown. She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. Drawing a breath, she turns away from me, biting her lip to suppress a quiver. ''Hey, let's stop for a moment. I don't really know where we are, and I'm not trying to run into some type of mutt.''

I try to joke with her, laughing quietly, but she nods her head in a serious manner. Smacking my hand against my face and pulling down, I begin to let the thoughts overwhelm me. Cathodette's so depressed, always has been, always will be, but what says that she won't try to kill me? _What if that's what she's thinking about at this exact moment?_

I mean, looking at her face, she seems sad, but looking at her body movements, the twitch in her arms and the way she constantly looks back at her backpack... it gives me chills. Before entering the Arena, she was becoming lighthearted, but now? No, she's so anxious... We're locked in a cage together and she looks like she wants to be the first to escape, but I don't blame her.

It's just this suspicious feeling that I'm experiencing in my chest; maybe it's her quietness, or maybe it's the guilt. Either way, I don't know, but I need to get out of here for a little bit. Getting up, I grab my sickle, looking back at Cathodette with a smile, observing the way her face twists as I hold my weapon.

She doesn't trust me anymore, which is obvious, but I gotta try and reassure her that she'll be alright by my side. ''Where are you going?'' she asks.

''Just going for a walk. I kinda need a breather,'' I shrug. ''Just in case anything's out there, I gotta bring my weapon with me, you know?''

''Yeah,'' she understands. But just as I begin to walk away, she hesitates, ''you're coming back, right?''

''What?''

''Like, you're not going to leave me or anything, right?''

Laughing, I say, ''Of course I'm coming back; if I wasn't, I would have killed you by now and taken all of the bags.'' That probably wasn't the best joke to make, but I say what I want, and I don't care if it bothers her, whether it just slipped out or not.

''Funny,'' she pauses.

Before she can say anything else and argue, I turn away and start to walk. ''Don't move,'' I warn. ''I'll be right back, and I don't want anything bad happening to you.''

When I disappear from Cathodette's view, I feel myself walking unusually slow all of a sudden, almost robotically, as if my brain's struggling to tell each foot to take the next step. It's like I'm in a stupor; like someone under hypnosis in one of those Capitol game shows. Suddenly, out of nowhere, to make things worse, I begin to feel tingly.

Cold licks at my face and creeps under my clothes, spreading across my skin like icicles are absorbing into my body. My lips turn into a tinge of purple with blue, and with chattering teeth, I wrap my arms around my body. At this moment, I really wish that someone would send a coat or something, and instead of this Aztec miniskirt, we would've been given leggings or something fur-coated instead.

I fall to my knees, wondering if everyone else in the Arena is experiencing the same weather, when a white bolt of lightning flashes across the once orange-colored sky. _Be still,_ I tell myself as the storm brews. The wind screams more than howls and rain falls as stones. The trees bend and moan in wrath that looks like only a God can summon, branches torn like paper limbs. Everything in the environment is torn away, the debris tumbling in the vortices, heavy like bullets, destroying anything and everything except for me.

A tear in the sky suddenly appears, expanding into a colossal hole that carries something into the hollow interior of the Earth. The broken land around me rumbles, shaking me to my core, as I spot two human figures falling down from the broken sky above. They're not tributes, though, I know that for a fact, as I see their sizes when they reach closer and closer.

One of them seems to be an elderly man and his adult son. Finally, after minutes of free-falling, they land not too far from me, just past a few destroyed hills. I run after them, trying to see what exactly is going on, when they splash into the expanding river that looks as if it's miles wide. The water splashes softly around their outstretched bodies, caressing coolly, eddying in their wake.

I watch the drips, both transparent and opaque at the same time. The droplets fall as if they're being snatched by gravity. I thought they were alone, that the Gamemakers were just fucking with me, until the lake, I realize, teems with life. These things appear, more like shadows than physical beings – light resembling humans shape-wise – each form rippling whenever they move through the disturbed water, snagging and ripping the two men apart. I watch, horrified, as the water turns a shade of blood red, drawing the two men into a pool of their own blood.

My heart skips a beat when I realize that they're looking at me now. Their white eyes, with a slight hue of blue, seem to grow larger as they all turn around to face me, one after another. I'm at least an acre away from them, not to mention on higher land, but I can see so much. Their heads, deformed and bloody, rip open as their brains are revealed, and restitch their own wounds, closing the gaps.

Automatically, unable to control myself, I throw up. I turn around, never looking back, and run forward. _What was that? Aliens?_ I ask myself, trying to shake the thought free from my mind, but it's just hanging there!

 _Chime!_

I hear, still running forward. I manage to find my way back to the area that I left Cathodette in, only needing to turn a corner, when a sponsor gift lands in my hand.

It's nothing special, just a note and a map.

 _''Welcome to the Inner Realm of Earth, Agartha,''_ the map reads, but I only see the font on the folded paper.

 _''Though I don't agree with your earlier actions, keep doing what you're doing. This is all that I'm able to send you with my money – I promise to get back to you with something more useful later, though this will come in handy. I promise. Hint of advice: focus on your surroundings, a lot... The Gamemakers have made the mutts much deadlier than any other tribute this year, and those things are your main priority to avoid. Wherever you go, make sure that you're safe. What you just saw... that's the tip of the iceberg.''_

 _''~ Sincerely, Cythrie.''_

Shoving the two items into my skirt, trying to make sense of things, I shake my head, finally reaching Cathodette. ''Did you experience that?'' I breathe heavily, panting for my breath to return.

''Experience what?'' she seems confused.

''What just—'' I pause, looking up at the sky. It's clear again, and she's completely dry, unlike me with my wet outfit from the storm. She doesn't question it, so I forget about it and keep it to myself.

''Nevermind, it was nothing,'' I smile. ''I guess the Gamemaker's were just playing tricks on me.

* * *

 **Emil Robins, District Three**

* * *

''Hey, what are we searching for?'' I ask.

''Tributes,'' Clarice turns around, a smug look on her face. ''But not anymore, I guess, since you wanna be a loudmouth and let everyone around the entire area know where we are. Wouldn't be a surprise to me if they escaped. Thanks.''

''What the hell? I wasn't even that loud,'' I retort. ''Besides, we've been out here for hours. I think it's time that we had back to the Cornucopia. I mean, you really think Zep will be able to defend the entire fort by himself?''

''He's capable of it, trust me,'' Clarice nods curtly. ''And you might be right, but I'd rather stay out here just in case any tribute passes by. We'll hear them for sure, and then strike. It's about time we set up camp, though, and he's not all by himself; Atlas is there to help him.''

Adonis and Avery take out their camping bags, setting up a tent each. Adonis and Blush are gonna share one, I guess, judging by the fact that she's looking at him intently. I reach into my backpack, taking out one of those small roll-up beds, only having that to keep me hidden from whatever lurks in the night.

''Anyone know how to set up a fire?''

''Yeah, we all do,'' Adonis says. ''We're Careers. Isn't that the most basic thing we learn to do when we're introduced to this survival shit?''

''I don't,'' Avery chirps in.

''Yeah, well you're special,'' Blush smiles sharply.

''Yeah, I get that, but I mean, who _wants_ to do it? I don't, it takes too much time,'' Clarice bites.

''No it doesn't,'' I say. ''Guys, take out all of the equipment in your bags. Out of Avery's bag, I see a bunch of matches, which brings a smile to my face. Looking around the forest, I grab a whole bunch of dried leaves and mush them all together in the center, calling it our fire pit. Unfortunately, there aren't any large objects that I can pile on top of the leaves...

Realizing that what I'm about to do is risky, I snatch Clarice's spear off of the ground, hearing her call out ''Hey!'' and toss it into the pile. I flick the matches together, drawing large flames of fire from three different ones, and toss them into the pile. A couple of the others start chuckling as I fan the flames, making them grow larger and larger. I repeat this process with more matches.

The flames grow pretty large and I feel proud of myself. ''Pretty crafty, kid,'' Adonis laughs, dying over the fact that I just burned Clarice's spear. All of that attention! Panem's probably laughing right now!

''You feel like you accomplished something?'' Clarice grabs my shirt, staring me dead in the eye. ''That's funny to you?''

''Well, I needed something to help start the flames, damn,'' I shrug. ''Besides, if you need that spear so badly, why don't you dive into the flames and retrieve it?''

''Why, you—''

''I'd limit my movement if I were you,'' I warn. ''Why don't you attend to that wound on your head instead of threatening me? Leave it the way it is and you'll get an infection – it wouldn't surprise me if you died in a matter of days from it.''

She's about to say something when the Capitol Anthem begins playing. Everyone stares up, looking at the beautifully lit logo in the starry night sky. The first person to show up hits us all by surprise. It's Sigrid, and I feel goosebumps suddenly appearing on my arms.

''How?'' I hear.

''You said that she went after an alliance of four?'' I ask, turning to Clarice. She nods her head. ''That's how,'' I conclude. ''Four against one? The odds were never in her favor. She must've gotten way over her head.''

The rest of the faces show in the sky. Avery smiles when the Eight boy's face appears. Everyone else tonight has been killed by a person in this alliance, except for the Nine boy. Nobody claims that kill.

We all stand in silence for a little bit, and if Atlas were here, we'd all be staring at him, but we don't know what to do at this point.

''Okay, time for bed!'' Clarice claps her hands together.

''You don't care, do you?'' Avery challenges. ''Just like that, you let an ally go?'' He crosses his arms together, sitting down the dirty floor, looking at her with his eyebrows raised.

''It's not that I don't care, but we gotta move on,'' she claims. ''One of us dying isn't supposed to hold the rest of us back. You realize that all of us except for one are gonna be dead eventually, right? Besides, who here was close to her besides Atlas? Why should we care all that much? What's done is done, we can't mourn her for too long.''

''That's cruel, even for me,'' Blush shakes her head.

''Yeah, well life is cruel,'' Clarice counters.

''Whatever,'' Avery yawns. ''Who's keeping first watch?''

''We will,'' Blush and Adonis volunteer together. I feel a little uneasy on their decision. I mean, both the tributes from One, together, staying up while the rest of us sleep? They could kill two of us in our sleep and take the other remaining tribute out so easily. I don't like this.

''No, no, hell no,'' Clarice wags her finger. ''Blush and Emil can take first watch. You two together is like us wishing for death to come. The chemistry between y'all is something else, and I'd rather be safe than sorry. End of decision. When four hours pass by, wake me and Adonis up.''

Adonis rolls his eyes, shrugging as he enters his sleeping bag. ''Fine.'' he says, and that's it for the rest of the early night. Everyone else goes to bed, and Blush and I stay up, just staring at each other.

''So...'' I start.

''Don't,'' she says, excusing herself as she gets up. I watch her carefully, and she sends me a cutting glare. We've sat here for two hours in silence, and the one time I wanna start a conversation, she completely shuts me down. She starts playing with the bags, taking useful items out and placing them in her own.

''What are you..?'' I stop all of a sudden, feeling a hand grab me by my neck. Flinching upwards, I lock eyes with Adonis, gulping. ''Oh, shit.''

''Just be quiet, I won't hurt you,'' he says, in a friendly tone. ''Blush, hurry up and let's get out of here.'' I wanna ask a question but I'm way too scared for my life right now. ''Hey,'' he says, poking me with the shaft of his javelin, ''nothing happened tonight, okay?''

''What are you talking about?'' I ask, pretending to be an imbecile. ''Nothing's even happening right now, why are you trying to turn this into something it's not?''

''Man, I love this kid,'' he laughs quietly. ''Can we take him with us?''

Blush looks back, stony faced, and holds out two different bags. ''Here,'' she tosses one to him. He catches it right above my head, and I jump outwards, slapping my body against the ground in pain.

''Ow!'' I whisper. ''That hurt! Did you feel the wind? It pushed me away!'' Slapping my hands across my body, watching the girl deadpan and the boy snicker, I say, ''I think I'm gonna start bruising up. Do you think you can spare me some medicine or first-aid items?''

Blush, being generous, reaches into her bag and tosses me a small first-aid kit. Looking me in my eye, she says, ''Didn't know you too well, but I enjoyed the time. It was a pleasure watching you mess with shit.'' With a wink, she blows a kiss at me and walks off with Adonis. ''Take care, kid!'' she waves.

''Oh, and don't forget,'' she turns around. ''Don't tell them anything. Let that bitch figure out what happened. Can't wait 'till we meet again.''

Gulping, I nod my head, leaving a stupid smile on my face. Somehow, I feel like both them and I made the worst decisions of our lives tonight.

Mostly them, though. With the anger that's gonna be surging tomorrow, I expect Clarice and Avery to go headhunting...

I just pray that they don't blame me.

* * *

 **18th - Taisiya Danshov, District Nine**

* * *

 **Haiden, Taisiya was a hella interesting tribute. He had such a large disadvantage when it came to fighting other tributes, though. I didn't want to kill Taisiya off too early, and I suppose right after the Bloodbath is early, but he made it decently far for the first couple of deaths. That fight with Vendetta happened because Taisiya does what first comes to his mind, no matter how reckless it seems. That's the main reason that I killed him; he didn't think, he just wanted to go out and get things done, becoming hostile with the smallest situations. It was a terrible habit that would surely lead to his end. He was very different from your regular tribute. That's what I liked about him, that he expanded out into a wider variety that I'd never seen before. You took the path that not many SYOT submitters take. Most people would make a full body tribute with no problems or illnesses or bad and make them normal, but Taisiya wasn't normal. Normal doesn't always mean good, nor does straying away from that, but I wanted to give him a realistic placing. It would be hard to survive without a few of his limbs, not the mention the extra eye that he lost to Nikola. Everything would have just been bad if he continued on. I had no major story arch for him. I had thought of making him get over Nikola at some point, realizing that he's incapable of defending himself only because he let his brother take the things he desperately needed, but that would have been it. Besides, he loved his brother too much to feel some type of hatred towards him, so I didn't know what to do. Thank you for submitting him, he was one of the most detailed tributes that I had received for this story, and one of the most conflicting. He'll be remembered.**

* * *

 **A/N: Ayee! Okay, so this was pretty fun to write. Excuse any mistakes or whatever, though, I legit just woke up and speed reviewed this thing because I don't wanna wait 'till later to update this - got stuff to do, ya know how that is, right? Hope y'all liked this chapter and got a taste of what the Arena's gonna be like. And yes, the Arena's a place named Agartha. Don't really know how to explain it, but it's this theory that there's land inside of the Earth's core and things dwell there, like everything the Government or whatever don't want us to see; aliens, giants, etc., not gonna spoil too much. That explains the summary, if any of you were wondering. Search it up if you're interested, or not, idc, but trust me, shit's gonna get deadly from now on. Apologies if your tribute goes through hell by my ideas. Don't really have any questions today, just lemme know what you guys thought of the chapter and Arena if you'd like.**

* * *

 **That's really all for today, hope you guys have a wonderful time doing whatever it is you do later on. I'll see y'all next time, bye! ^-^**


	16. Playing A Dangerous Game

**Day Two:**

* * *

 **Atlas Aureliano, District Two**

* * *

''You good, man?'' I turn, asking Zeppelin. Yesterday he went the entire night without sleep, insisting that he should keep watch. I decided to trust him and nothing happened to me, which I'm thankful for. Searching out the scene, I notice that all of the corpses are gone – great, now there's no more of that disgusting stench. Turning back, looking at his heavy-lidded eyes, I say, ''You don't look so hot.''

He waves me off, rolling his head from side-to-side. ''Um, sorry about last night,'' I apologize. ''The way I reacted, after seeing Sigrid's face in the sky, wasn't acceptable... I just thought that it was a sham being played by the Gamemakers, but I've gotten over it. My acidic tone and sarcasm wasn't... I-I'm sorry.''

Looking at me with caring eyes, I mark him off as a solicitous type of guy. He seems genuine, but he's just so quiet and always hangs in the shadows – it's like he doesn't even wanna be here, so why is he?

Crouching upwards, I march over to a set of crates laid out on the metal tables, taking out a bag of grapes. ''Here,'' I smile, flicking one in his direction. He catches it, both hands sticking out, and slowly bites down on the fruit. ''You look hungry.''

I stand in silence, watching him eat, his sitting silhouette reaching the very front of the Cornucopia. Walking past him, I drop the entire bag in his lap, not trying to look him in the eyes. The connection just isn't clicking between him and I. We've gotta get along if we're gonna properly defend the remaining equipment and weapons.

 _Chime!_

Both Zeppelin and I prop our heads forward, staring up at the morning sky. A sponsor gift comes landing near my feet, a covered bowl with a note attached to it.

 _''You must be starving with all of that dry food there. Here, enjoy this omelet that I made just for you. It's got all sorts of things in it, and I'm sure it'll fill you up just right.''_

 _''~ Love Cassidey, xoxo''_

''It's an omelet,'' I say, telling him, even though he didn't ask. I just have a feeling that he's curious. ''I'll split half with you, if you'd like?''

Remaining quiet, he sighs. I just don't understand him. You just can't figure this guy out without discovering some piece of arcane information. ''Dude, I mean—'' I try to budge, feeling myself becoming a burden.

''Hop off my nuts, please!'' he barks, sitting up in a quick bounce. ''Just... Why are you trying to talk to me? Let the quiet air stay quiet, I'm not in the mood.''

''But you're never in the mood,'' I counter. ''Seriously, what's up with you? I'm being real with you here, I just wanna talk and get to know you. How are we supposed to function if you've been avoiding speech with me ever since we first met?'' he goes quiet. ''You seem so sad for some reason, like, what's good with you?''

Walking forward and taking a seat next to him, I continue. ''Is it because of that little girl? You know it had to be done... We can't control who we run into, but we do control who lives and who dies – it's tough, I know, but don't let it knock you down.''

''You don't need to keep yourself isolated and hidden all the time,'' I say. ''You've got allies and people who want to talk to you, people who will need you later on, people who wanna lean a head on your shoulder at times, so why do you resent us?''

''...Because I'm supposed to,'' he finally admits – and his answer is exactly what I was expecting. No Career's supposed to open up and feel remorse for another tribute, or show any type of weakness whatsoever. We're supposed to be strong, vicious, and cold – that's our label – but not all of us can project that stereotype properly.

I give him a warm smile, nodding. ''I get it, really. You're afraid that if you let everyone settle in with you comfortably, they'll start depending and leaning towards you. And... you don't want that, because you've gotta win, am I right?''

He nods his head. A small laugh escapes my lips and I exhale outwards. ''You don't have to be afraid of that,'' I comfort him. ''Sooner or later, something's gonna happen and you'll be the only person some of us are gonna look towards for safety. You can fight and ignore it all you want, but that feeling's gonna haunt you someday.''

His eyes shine in the barely-lit light, brimming with acceptance. He knows that I'm right. Ripping the omelet in half, I hand it to him. He rests back and leans on a table leg, lifting one leg up and resting his elbow on it.

''I can help you,'' I offer. ''You don't have to be alone all the time.''

* * *

 **Beckett Leighton, District Five**

* * *

''I still think we should've returned to the cornucopia,'' Kaster gestures, holding both arms behind his head. ''I mean, who knows what else we could've managed to escape with?''

''Maybe something decent,'' I respond, ''but if we stayed, we also might not be breathing still. I don't think it would have been worth it because of the various potential outcomes, but that's just my opinion.''

''Maybe you're right,'' Kaster sighs. ''It's true, though. One of us could have gotten into trouble and the other three would have gone in after them, resulting in something catastrophic – that's always a possibility in these Games. Makes me sick just thinking about placing your allies in danger.''

''Don't think like that,'' Bree smiles, leading us in our struts. ''Besides, we're safe now. I don't know where we are, but it looks like a kingdom of some sort...''

I scan the area, nodding my head in agreement. There are streets in every corner that we turn, like a normal District or something. The only difference is that this kingdom is ten times more luxurious than any District that I could imagine; I don't even think that the Capitol compares to this.

Each building is made of legitimate crystals, the windows looking as if they're constructed of stained glass – they probably are. It's really beautiful.

''This place...'' Poet says, looking around, stunned. ''It's unimaginable! No way would I ever, in my life, think of something like this. The Gamemaker's are creative this year.''

''Creatively deadly,'' Bree mentions. ''Never be too careful. Don't let the beauty of this city distract you from—''

She suddenly stops in her tracks, I only realize this when I bump into Kaster, who bumps into Poet, who bumps into Bree. A giant shadow casts over me, leaving me confused for a brief moment, until I regain my posture.

''G-G-G...'' her teeth chatter.

''Huh?'' I say, noticing that all of them are silent for some reason. Then I look up, flabbergasted, as I see a giant, nude human being. The creature is abnormally shaped, with its body being quite larger than its head to the point where it looks like a tennis ball is located on the center of a skyscraper. It has a masculine body shape, muscles popping out at every corner. The giant's mouth is wide with an enormous number of small, squared teeth, frightening me to the core.

 **''GIANT!''** I scream, finishing her word for her, stuttering backwards with each step, falling to the floor and digging my fingernails into the street's iron floor. I'm unprepared when it steps over the other three and touches me, poking me with its pinky finger – which is larger than my entire body...

He grabs me, lifting me up into the air without squeezing my body, and I can't stop screaming. The others look up at me, horrified, when the colossal giant swings its arm down, grabs them in its free hand, and squeezes them together, all three of them being pressed uncomfortably close to one another.

''Come... t-to... my ho... muh!'' the giant tries, showing no clear form of verbal communication. Its speech pattern is extremely distorted, making it hard to understand what it's trying to say, but we all nod in appreciation that we're not dead yet, trying not to upset the beast.

He runs, shaking us wildly in his hands, until we reach its home. To my surprise, we're brought to a garden. But the garden's much larger than anything either of us have ever seen, and in the center is his home: a massive tree with a cabin on top.

''You... you fowr... st-stay heyaa...'' he commands, his words sounding like a threat. ''If you move, you will... b-be... pwunishid...''

None of us say anything, we just stay silent. I notice Bree next to me, looking sick, her face suddenly draining of color and all blood circulating away from her brain. ''Wait a minute,'' she says, noticing something important. ''Guys, we gotta go, or else we're all dead.''

''What are you talking about?'' Kaster asks.

''Kaster, look around! You too, Poet!'' she points. ''Do you recognize these plants? We learned about them back during the training days, when we first formed this alliance – over there is Wolfsbane'' she points, '' and over there is Henbane, along with all other types of plants that could be just as deadly, or even worse!''

''Oh, my God,'' Poet squeals.

''We're basically in a poisonous greenhouse!'' Bree informs. ''We need to leave, right now!''

She gets up, ready to run, but just as she grabs Poet's hand, flinging him up to his feet, the giant jumps out from his cabin, rumbling the ground viciously when he lands. ''I TOWLD YOUU NOT TO... MOVE!'' he roars. Bree immediately begins dragging Poet away, yelling for Kaster and I to follow.

I quickly jolt forwards, grabbing the machete that fell from Poet's bag, and run, leaving his backpack behind. Turning around, I spot Kaster standing there, immovable. ''KASTER, LET'S GO!'' I shout at him.

He finally snaps back into reality and looks at me, wasting no time catching up with the rest of us. The giant's steps make us all bounce roughly. We're blessed that the plants that Bree warned us about are too large and spaced out for us to touch or be near to.

Ironically, the giant, just as I think that, grabs the two specific plants that Bree pointed out, and throws it at us. The whirling sound of the plants is way too loud for any of us to ignore. I close my eyes, waiting for the impact to hit, when Bree suddenly runs back, her bravery controlling her, and pushes Kaster and I away, taking the hit for us.

''Woahhhhh,'' she says, swaying back and forth, avoiding being trapped under the plants. She begins laughing for no reason at all. ''I feel weirrddd... WOW! Am I flying? The clouds are so warm and puffy, I can't believe that I'm actually doing this!''

But in reality, she's on the floor, just holding her arms at her sides and drooling on the floor. The giant inches closer to her and, despite all three of us being inept of reaching her quick enough, we all grab her somehow, the adrenaline kicking in, and toss her over our shoulders, running with the strong will of wanting to survive.

''HEY!'' We all hear, and it's a completely different voice this time. Nobody dares to look back except for me, and what I see makes me believe that I'm just dreaming, that none of this is real. A male with long blonde hair and a woman with snow-white hair and blue eyes appear from a crafted portal, grab the giant by the ear, and begin scolding it. The giant's at the mercy of these humans, pleading for forgiveness, saying something about how they have a higher power and that it'll never disobey them again.

The two higher figures look down at me, holding their arms out together for some reason. ''GO, GO, GO!'' is all I can manage before choking, the dryness of my mouth making it difficult to swallow.

When we leave the greenhouse, we end up in a completely different environment than before. We reach a cave exit of some sort, where mountains upon mountains topple each other, water dripping from every open area. Near the end of the mountains, another city-like area is located. I shake my head, unable to make sense of what's going on or where we are.

A flying saucer zooms past a mountain, doing flips and tricks in the air for no apparent reason. I bite down, clenching my fist.

''What do those two plants do?'' I ask.

''Henbane makes you hallucinate,'' Kaster answers, seemingly upset.

''And Wolfsbane is a drug that makes you e-extremely sl-sleepy, but once you fall asleep, it k-kills you,'' Poet chimes in.

I regret what I said earlier about not turning back so much. ''Wheeee!'' Bree says on top of me and Kaster. We should've gone back, because then we wouldn't have an ally hallucinating and being drugged in the matter of who knows when!

''When does Wolfsbane usually kick in?''

''Seconds to minutes,'' Poet cries, feeling angry with himself. My head begins throbbing when I hear his words, not being able to believe it. ''But the man back at the station told me that on rare occasions, some people may be able to go days without falling asleep. We just need to keep her awake. The good thing is that she didn't consume it.''

''And if she did?''

''She'd fall into a deep sleep within a few hours and never wake up,'' he looks down, tears falling from his eyes. ''It's all my fault,'' he blames himself. ''If I just moved on my own, without her helping me, we would have been able to get out of there quicker, before the giant had a chance to attack, but I stopped her..!''

''It's not your fault,'' I smile, helping Kaster place her down, listening to her stutter, spit falling down her cheeks from the corners of her mouth and onto the ground. Kaster wipes her face, using his shirt as a source of material since we don't have anything in our bags that'll help all too much. ''You were in shock just like the rest of us – only she was prepared, and she helped save us. It's no one's fault besides those damn Gamemakers'; they did this to us.''

 _But you're wrong,_ my mind says. I squint my eyes shut, placing my hands over my ears when I turn around, being abused by my own thoughts in front of everyone – this has never happened before, it's always when I'm alone,but now... _It's not their fault, not the Gamemakers' fault, not anyone else's fault, and you know that..._

 _It's yours, because you're weak. You're better off dead, coward!_

And maybe I truly am.

* * *

 **Loralei Tenaris, District Eight**

* * *

For now, all I can do is wait.

Ever since Clarence's death, things have been strange for me – more difficult, to say the least. I mean, I told him that I would last longer than he would, but it's much more quiet now. Just knowing that I won't have anymore banter with him makes me shutter.

He let me down.

But forget him, I survived and he didn't. I just need to move on. Quite literally, though. Something's been chasing after me for a while now, and maybe it's not just something; somethings, probably, because I hear multiple feet stomping.

There's nowhere to go, unfortunately. I'm stuck in a dead-end, reaching into my backpack for my blowgun and a knife. I've only got three darts, which probably isn't sufficient enough to take out however many of them there are – and what's even worse is that I'm not an expert with this weapon. I may be decent, but if one of my shots misses, then what?

I concentrate as the approaching foot stomps grow louder, sending an eerie, repeating wave of echoes through the walls. Truly, I have no idea where I'm at. It was storming at one point and then lightning struck, blinding me, and I felt myself falling into some type of hole. I've been trudging ever since, but still, I haven't found anything.

My palms become slippery, I feel, the sweat making it hard for me to hold onto my knife properly. A shadow creeps up on me, and when I look forward, I see a group of humanoid-like creatures just staring at me. There's no gender to these creatures, I believe, as I see no genitals on any of these naked things. They're a decent size, though, towering over me by just a few inches.

Holding my knife in front of me, ready to defend myself if I need to – no, when I need to. They approach closer, and what they say shocks me.

''Earth dweller, it is quite a fancy to meet you,'' one of them, the leader, I think, says. ''You've entered our home, I see. We'd love for you to stay, but we kindly ask that you must leave. Or else things might get out of order. You understand, don't you?''

I babble in my speech, unable to manage a sentence. They all laugh at the same time, in unison. ''You must be thirsty. Here,'' the same one says, slamming its arm into the ground, puncturing through the rough gravel. A flow of water introduces itself. ''Have some.''

Running right to the side of these creatures, I fall to my knees and take out an empty plastic bottle, filling it up with the water as quickly as I can, hoping that it'll be enough to last me a few more days.

''Thank you...'' I hesitate, not sure what I'm getting myself into. They look down at me, and the one in the middle's arm shoots up and destroys the ceiling above us. Staring up, I watch the crumbling rocks land near me, splashing in the water and forcing me to jump back.

''Get out,'' they command, all at the same time, their voices sounding like something off of a horror film. Fortunately for me, the rocks pile up together, giving me an easy chance at escape. Running with all of my energy, I take off on the rock-stairs, revealing myself to the outside world. It's a meadow...

''What the hell?'' I look around, perplexed, realizing that I was underground for so long. That explains the darkness and dirt everywhere, but how is that these guys' home? _Something's not right_ , I think, my stomach feeling queasy.

''Please us!'' the mutts scream, pushing me forward and out of the hole. Peering up, I stare into the eyes of another girl, and her ally standing right behind her. This is all starting to make sense now. The Gamemaker's want plot, they want something interesting to happen – a fight, if you want to be upfront.

''Shit,'' the first girl says, holding up her sickle, the weapon glinting in the bright light. ''What do you want?''

''It's not what I want,'' I say, getting up and wiping my mouth. ''It's what _they_ want.''

Her eyebrows fall slowly, looking upset. Lips quivering, she forces her backpack off of her and throws it onto the floor. ''I see... So, what do you wanna do?''

''I wanna go home,'' I answer, poising my knife in front of me and placing my blowgun into my skirt. _Save that for later,_ I tell myself – if there even is a later. ''But what I want doesn't matter. We could just walk away from this, you know?''

''We could, but we'd both die shortly after,'' she mutters.

''Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.'' And with that, we charge at each other. Unexpectedly, she swings her sickle at my neck, making me suck in my stomach and fall backwards. Blood trickles down the side of my cheek, but I don't feel it – I've never felt it.

She's extremely proficient with her weapon, which I wasn't expecting. It's more of her swinging and me dodging, unable to make my move. My arm, uncontrollably, jolts up and I catch the tip of the sickle with the blade of my knife, and elbow her in the stomach, pushing some distance between the two of us as she gets back to catch her breath.

More mutts come out of the ground, encircling the three of us, making it look like a fighting ring. I try my best to suppress a laugh, but it manages to escape.

''Something funny?'' she asks.

''It's just these Gamemakers and how badly they want blood,'' I shrug. ''Kinda lame, if you ask me.'' She nods curtly, not saying a single word after that. I look behind me, keeping a close eye on the second girl. She's got a knife in her hand, but she's not moving.

The girl who I turned my back on screams, suddenly in front of me now, and scratches her sickle across my chest. I feel my shirt tear, and once again the blood tickles my skin. She lunges at me while I'm distracted, fist reaching out in the form of a punch, but I step away at the last possible second and grab her arm, twisting it with all the strength I can muster.

She lets out an ear-piercing scream, so close to me that I wince with the sensitivity of my ears. I give a cursory glance behind her, watching the other girl sprint at me, her weapon raised. I look down for a second, not realizing what I just observed, until I look back up. ''Oh, shit!''

Pushing the girl away from me, I send her flying into her ally. She catches her, but barely manages to push the knife away from her skull. ''What are your names?'' I ask.

''Ceres,'' the one I just kicked says, ''and that's Cathodette.''

I nod, watching them closely. Ceres tells Cathodette to come closer to her, whispering something in her ear, and I prepare myself for whatever is about to happen. Slinging my backpack to the side now, knowing that it'll only hold me back, I sigh deeply.

The two of them inch closer but then soon direct themselves to different sides, circling around me. Running at the same time, they both attack – one of them goes for my upper body, while the other goes for my lower. I feel Cathodette's arms wrap around my waist, dragging me to the ground, but I elbow her in the face, causing her to yell.

She quickly drops her knife and covers her face with both hands. Ceres and I are one-on-one again, and I can only block, playing the defensive game as she stares at me angrily, taking the offensive role with her weapon. Making direct eye-contact with her, I keep her preoccupied with my looks, fighting with a stony face and seeming like I won't do anything.

She doesn't expect me to drop my body to the floor, so when I do, she trips forward, swinging way too far ahead, and falls to the ground. Rolling the dice and taking my chances, I force my body onto hers, stabbing my knife into her forearm and digging it deep. As she squeals on the floor, shaking and screaming, I notice a large piece of paper in her skirt. Wanting to reach in and grab it, thinking that it's something useful, I resist the urge and turn back to the other tribute.

''CERES!'' Cathodette screams, lying on the ground in withering pain. Taking out my blowgun, I place a dart into the hole and blow, wasting no time. The dart flies through the air and cuts into her shoulder. Her anguish-filled shriek fills the air, and I take out my knife, nearing her in order to get the job done.

I was hoping for the dart to hit her in the head, but the shaking in my hands caused me to lean more to the left and downward. That's okay, though, I just need to finish this quickly so that I can get the burden out of the way. She lies on the floor soundless, her body quivering with pain. Tugging her by her shirt, I bring her up to her knees and place my knife on her throat.

Then, something makes me buckle down. I turn around, noticing an already bloody knife penetrating the back of me knee. I look up, blinking rapidly. Though I can't feel the pain, I can't fucking move!

''You don't look so scared,'' Ceres says, panting.

My heart thuds against my chest slowly, making me feel at calm. ''Honestly, I have nothing to fear.''

''You bleed but you don't scream,'' she notices. ''You're tough, and I can respect that. I'm sorry I have to do this, though. It's the twisted fate that the Gamemakers have set for us; they control our destiny now.''

''There's no such thing as fate,'' I frown. ''You can change what happens in your life with one move, though you don't know where it'll lead you. Some people go with the flow, but I like to shake it up.''

''We could have been great friends if it weren't for these Games,'' she informs me. ''I would've liked that.

Without a second word, I accept what's coming to me. My leg's too weak to move, and the sickle's coming way too quickly for me to avoid. It lands in my throat, but I don't feel anything. The only thing that feels uncomfortable is my insufficient amount of oxygen that's slowly leaving my body.

Darkness edges at the corner of my vision, and everything goes blurry.

I might be dying, but hey, I survived longer than Clarence. That, I can say, is an accomplishment. I kept true to my word.

* * *

 **Ocelot Harrien, District Twelve**

* * *

The cannon shot through the air wakes me up.

Only question is, who was it? My eyes open from my sleep, and it takes me a moment to remember everything that happened. Yesterday, seven people died, Ceres being one of them. Today, one person has died so far. It seems as if people are dropping like flies.

Rubbing my hands against my eyes, I reach for my bag, looking to take out a stick of beef jerky. I managed to escape with a bag and that was it – running into the cornucopia wasn't an option for me, and statistically speaking, sixty percent of tributes who dive in deep get killed.

No weapon, no sleeping bags, no nothing besides some food, a water bottle, and an long pair of pants. The pants aren't thick, but they'll keep me warm, which I can appreciate.

Let's see now, how many tributes are left? Sixteen, I believe. I scratch my head, the thought of death being unnerving. I miss the Capitol _so_ much, how it felt like home, how graciously the people there treated me, how well I got along with every Capitolite that I spoke to. If only I could reside there permanently and they would have just replaced me with another kid from Twelve – it's the obviously more preferable choice than being in here, praying that I don't die a gruesome death every night.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that the Gamemakers, if bored, will push us all to our deaths eventually. That's the day I'm dreading. Who knows, though? They could get bored later on tonight if only one death occurs and make their own miniature Bloodbath. Anything's possible in here.

I'm just happy that Ceres doesn't have to go through this. ''Man...'' I sigh, rubbing my head. She came from that vile, repugnant District just like I did, but we were both different. Granted, she did get on my nerves at times, but she didn't bully me like everyone else did, she didn't spit at me for loving the Capitol like everyone else did, and she didn't judge me like everyone else did.

...And I kinda miss her, but there's no room in a place like this for someone so innocent. I just... I feel guilty. _What if you stayed back and had grabbed her before her death? You didn't even see who her killer was, you just ran._

Really... If I had just turned around, maybe we both could've survived, or maybe I would've sacrificed myself. I don't know, but was leaving her the best thing to do? We both might have ended up dead, and the District would've been knocked out of the Games early – again. My goals in life could have been destroyed.

Ugh! Life's so dang complicated! I've never experienced problems such as this before! ''Why did I have to be thrown in here?!'' the words slip out, and I quickly bring both hands up to cover my mouth.

The one thing that makes me wish that she was still alive is the comfort that I'd be receiving from her. Just knowing that death is constantly hanging over my head... that requires some encouragement to continue.

But hey, the Capitol's encouraging me. I know that they'll help me win these Games, they love me, don't they? I love them, so I would hope that they return the same feeling. And, only one of us goes home, which means that alliances should only be short-term. The long-run play is what I'm heading for.

This cave that I'm in isn't as dark as it was before when I first entered it. I saw a light at the top, which scared me to death, but I didn't pay it any attention. It was better to leave it alone rather than to be curious like a horror movies' main-character – the smarter option, if you ask me.

I should probably get moving, though. Being inactive is the one thing that these people hate, and it makes you more vulnerable to being attacked, so...

Reaching for my bag again, I feel something sharp poke my finger tip. Blood seeps from my finger and lands on the floor. Turning to my bag, I see a dagger lying next to me – just a dagger, and a small parachute sticking to it. I pick it up, looking around in search for some type of hint that there's a camera around.

It's impossible to find those things, but I look up into the air, the place where I think most cameras would be located, and say, ''Thank you so much!'' My heart's telling me that someone from the Capitol sent it, and I can never repay my gratitude to them unless I get out of this Arena.

And despite my size and my age, I still have a chance.

This weapon gives me the boost that I need – I not only have defense now, but also offense.

* * *

 **Blush Belfleur, District One**

* * *

''Who do you think died?'' I ask Adonis, curious to hear his response.

''Does it really matter?'' he answers my question by asking me a question. Damn, I hate when people do that. ''It's just another tribute out of the competition that'll help us get home.''

'' _Us?_ ''

''Me.'' he corrects.

''What if it's Emil? You know, what if Clarice and Avery got all upset and shit and decided to kill him?''

''That would be unfortunate,'' he shrugs, taking a bite out of a dry apple. ''But I doubt that happened. The kid's too smart to let them team up on him – he'd have seen it coming from a mile away and ran.''

''That's disgusting,'' I point out, pushing his answer to the side. ''That apple's dry as fuck.''

''Your opinion,'' he states, swallowing, ''is irrelevant.''

 _Chime!_ Both of us immediately look at each other, then, almost simultaneously, we look up into the sky. Sponsor! We stop for a moment, trying to search out the items falling in the darkness that surrounds us. The black before us all of a sudden becomes velvet in quality, like the air's been thickened somehow.

Stars appear above us, speckled and cloudless, making the item falling easier to see. I look downward at the path I knew was rocky by the feel under my sandals while Adonis grabs the sponsor gift.

''It's for you,'' he hands it to me. District One Female reads on the note attached, the letters glowing red in the dark. ''What is it?''

''I don't know,'' I feel around the item. Or items, I should say. I hold the sponsor gift up, using both hands, admiring the constellations above and trying to figure out what exactly these things are. I pull my arm back, withdrawing rope from the parachute, and my other arm holds a bottle of some sort. There's a purple-ish black liquid in it, and on the bottle is a menacing death skull with a smile.

And in a little packet next to it, I touch what feels like pills inside, reading 'No Cure'. Oh... ''It's poison and polyester rope,'' I smile, wiggling my eyebrows. ''This'll come in handy.''

''Whatever you say,'' he ignores me, looking up at the sky.

''Aw, is little Adonis jealous that his better, more attractive District Partner is getting all the love and he's getting absolutely nothing?'' I tease, crossing my path in front of him. ''Does it hurt your feelings?''

 _Chime!_

''Nope,'' he says, a cocky smile complacent on his face. He doesn't even look up to see what it is, but instead reaches into the air like a know-it-all bastard and grips a newly received javelin by the grip. I inspect his weapon, comparing it to the one that he already has, and it's much better looking. This one's got two sides for attacking – the front, where the spearhead is usually located, is split into two different blades, allowing for double the pain if he kills another tribute, and at the end is where the spearhead is located, this one way larger and pointier than a regular one, but usually the shaft's there. ''I'm quite happy, actually.''

''Oh, shut up,'' I get in his face, barking at him. ''You're still nothing compared to me.'' I place both hands on my waist, staring him in the eye, waiting for a response. ''Are you just not gonna answer me? What's wrong with you?''

''I've gotten used to you,'' he laughs. ''You're just fun to be around now, instead of irritating. Besides, you please me.''

''Really, now? In what ways?'' I flirt, my voice deepening.

''That's... none of your business,'' he responds.

''Really?'' I get closer, pressing a hand on his shoulder and leaning into his chest. ''And you expect me to just let that slide and not find out?''

''Actually—'' I stop him in his tracks, placing my mouth on his neck. I know that once I kiss his neck that his resistance will crumble. After a few delicate touches of my warm lips, I know that he'll do my bidding, and once that's all said and done, he'll be mine.

''Chill,'' he says, pulling back, and I almost laugh because of the way he says it, his voice turning me on.

Holding his hands, I whisper in his ear, ''Don't pull away, I know that you want this.'' The gentle movement of my warm breath in his ear makes him listen, and I chuckle seductively.

''But,'' he tries, unable to concentrate.

''But what?'' I pause. ''But your family? Your sister, and how she hates me, right? What's she thinking right now? You think they're upset with you or something? You've been wanting me since the beginning, don't let the thought of them ruin this moment. Push them to the deepest depths of your mind and forget about them for thirty minutes.''

''...Nothing, forget about it,'' he concludes, and I smile. I feel his warmth get closer again, and this time it's him taking charge. He brushes my hair back from my shoulders and my mind goes blank. He cups my face in his hands and gives me what he knows I desire. Not even the Anthem and the face in the sky can pull us apart at this point.

There's only one wish left, and we both know it's just a matter of time before it's granted.

I just love getting what I want. Boys are so simple to play.

* * *

 **17th - Loralei Tenaris, District Eight**

* * *

 **Brooke, Loralei was my wild card in this story. She was so tough to capture, I'm not gonna lie. This is definitely the toughest tribute you've ever submitted to me, and probably your most difficult tribute out of all that you've made. She was so complicated, always contradicting herself at one point, and then becoming something completely different. She was legit the female Emil, except way more difficult to write for. She was fun, though, for sure. Her and Clarence having their little arguments and shit, the way she usually thought, and even her rare gift/curse, however you'd see it, with not being able to feel pain. I'd say that was a good thing for her, as she could barely even feel her death, which made her seem like a hard character who didn't have anything to fear. Unfortunately, I didn't have many plans left for her. Watch as I say this, a ton of shit starts flooding into my mind and I regret this decision. But, I know you're not around this website anymore, so I'll just text this to you as soon as I can, unless you come back for some reason and read this. I wanted her to go out by a Career's hand at first, preferably Atlas', but then I thought having a fighting ring with her, Cathodette and Ceres would be interesting, so there's that. But still, she was a great tribute, I loved her, and she's at peace now. It just wasn't her time to change the world, and she would have changed it a hella lot if she was Victor, I bet.**

* * *

 **A/N: Ayee! So, this chapter was interesting, for me, at least, if not for y'all. Everything that happened here was important, whether or not you realize it. Someone you suspect to die in this chapter might not later on, and someone you are suspecting to die will. Or vice versa, to be honest, who knows? I wanted to leave this chapter off on something interesting, with everyone having a POV that showed something happening, or gave a hint of it. Adonis and Blush's little relationship, Kaster, Poet, Beck, and Bree's situation, Ceres claiming her first kill and Cathodette having more of a reason to be frightened, and Ocelot, the underdog, gaining some protection. So, we'll see where this leads. I gotta warn y'all, though, I have absolutely nothing planned for next chapter. Legit, next chapter is the only chapter where I've had no ideas for because that's gonna be my only no deaths chapter of these Games, and it'll take me some time to plan that out. And I'll need this little break because I have every other death planned out in my mind, but I don't know how to distribute it per chapter. Like, I've got major deaths planned, but don't know if I want eight people dying in one chapter, or draw it out and make like two for four chapters, you feel? That's just an example, though. I don't really want to drag this story out, so I'll have to come to a decision soon.**

 **Besides that, there's not really anything else to say, besides the usual, that is. Proofreading has been lazy, as usual, but I hope whatever mistakes there are in this chapter aren't too unbearable. And, just in case I'm not able to say it later this week and update, Happy New Years, and I hope nothing but the best for all of you and hope all your dreams come true! That's all for now, I'll see you guys next chapter, bye! ^-^**


	17. Be Prepared

**Day Three:**

* * *

 **Cathodette Lyte, District Three**

* * *

The Gamemakers have left us alone for quite some time now. Since Eight's death yesterday, they've shown us some love by actually letting us rest. Sadly, I think her body's still where we left it – where Ceres left it – because I haven't seen a hovercraft enter the Arena since the night of the bloodbath.

''You okay?'' Ceres asks, crouching down to meet my eye level.

My breath catches in my throat and I'm unable to say anything. After basically choking for a few seconds, I answer. ''Y-Yeah, just fine. Why would you think that something's wrong?''

''Well, you've been staring at my sickle for the longest time now,'' she shrugs. ''Don't know if I should put it away or not.''

''Oh, sorry,'' I apologize. ''It's just that... you kinda left her dried blood on your sickle, and it bothers me.''

''I figured as much,'' she breathes, ''but I don't really have anything to clean this off with. There's water and such, but I think we're gonna need to drink that stuff and not waste it on cleaning weapons. Besides, why does it matter? Eventually everyone's weapons are gonna get bloodied, so what's the point in making them look clean and shiny?''

''Why do you say _everyone_? We're not all gonna become killers like you, you know?''

''Such as you?'' she raises an eyebrow, her gaze becoming cold. ''We're all still gonna fight, though, whether we know what we're doing or not.

''I _tried_ , okay?''

''And you almost got us both killed,'' she mentions. My heart leaps against my chest, wanting to be thrown out and tossed to the side. ''Listen, it's whatever. Just my opinion.''

My eyes feel like they're gonna burst with tears, and I can sense my lips quivering, but I hold myself still, staring straight into Ceres' eyes even as she turns away from me. ''...How?''

''How what?''

''How did I almost get us both killed?''

''First off,'' she says, shaking her head, ''I'm not gonna argue with you. You were a liability in that fight, and the plan was so clear and simple. I told you to hold her still while I swung, but you looked like you were trying to force her down. And before that, you almost stabbed your knife into my head when she pushed me back. Who swings ten feet away from the target?''

''I'm not the most skilled fighter in the world, can't you understand that?!'' I yell at her, my mouth burning from how dry it is. ''If it wasn't for me, you would have never been able to kill her! I distracted her, I risked my life so that you could gain an opening, and you didn't even thank me for it!''

''Why are you getting so defensive? I clearly stated a few seconds ago that it's _my_ opinion,'' she rolls her eyes, crossing her arms together, clearly playing with the handle of her sickle to scare me. ''No need to get butt-hurt.''

 _Fuck you_ , I wanna blurt out, but I control myself, keeping my walls high and mighty. No one breaks through them, not even an ally.

My cheeks glow red with the frustration of it all, and the feeling of wanting to cry hits me much harder than before. Why do I let her get the best of me? Why am I even still with her? I regret joining forces so much – especially after seeing what she's willing to do. She sacrificed Clarence, a boy who wasn't the kindest in the world but he surely didn't deserve death... Who does that?

I've never seen her like this because of how different she once was, before we entered the Arena.

Both of our heads turn to the right when we hear something. ''You heard that, too?'' she asks. I nod, pointing to the area that the sound resonated from. ''I'll be right back,'' she says confidently, holding her sickle proudly as she trudges through the wet grass and disappears before my eyes, behind a group of trees surrounded by bushes.

See what I mean? Who's willing to go after a noise that they heard in order to end something or someone's life besides the Careers? She's become bellicose to the thought of physical conflict with others.

I need to leave before something bad happens to me. But where do I go, what do I do? I basically rely on her. And if I stay, I lose; but if I leave, I also lose.

So what's a girl to do?

* * *

 **Poet Monroe, District Six**

* * *

''She's doing better than I expected,'' I smile, looking down at Bree in my lap, her eyes fluttering in the cold breeze that the Gamemakers decided to send us as a reward for surviving.

''That's good,'' Kaster turns around from his view of the mountains, smiling as he walks towards the two of us. Her fingers twitch randomly at certain times, and she leaves her mouth open, mumbling to herself. ''She's probably just as cold as we are. Beck!''

''Gotcha,'' Beck calls back, tossing Kaster the backpack that we keep all the extra clothes inside.

He grabs it and takes out a jacket, saying, ''Poet, sit her up real quick, please.'' I do just ask he asks, raising her arms into the air, and Kaster dresses the extra large jacket over her regular shirt, and then frowns. ''Wish we had something for her legs.''

''Yeah,'' I say, placing her downwards and letting her rest against my lap, ''but I think the jacket will do just fine. Besides, she seems to like it, don't you think?''

We all stare down at her nibbling the arm sleeves of the jacket, drooling all over it. Though this is such a serious situation, all three of us laugh together, sharing a moment that neither of us have ever dreamed of experiencing.

''You figure the Capitol hates us for this?''

Our laughter dies down slowly, and Kaster peers up, asking, ''What do you mean by that?''

''It's just that, with our ally unable to do anything at this state, don't you think they'd want us to kill her?'' he brings up, and I swallow thickly. ''They're probably upset with us for not dying in the first place yesterday.''

''Probably, but what are you suggesting?'' Kaster inquires.

''Nothing. Nothing at all,'' Beck responds. ''Just stating what I think is happening outside of the Arena. With only one death yesterday, they're probably growing impatient. I just hope that they don't reflect back to us.''

Picking my head up and zoning out, I stare at the opening, or exit – give or take – of this cave, taking in the beauty that I never once paid attention to. The mountains are covered with a rug of trees, green, yellow, scarlet and orange, but their bare tops are scarfed and beribboned with snow. From the carved rocky outcrops, waterfalls drift like skeins of white lawn, and in the fields, we can see the amber glint of rivers and the occasional mirror-like flash of a mountain lake.

Something about the mountain ranges creeps me out, though. I just have this terrible feeling in my gut that something's gonna be appearing from them, and nothing good, at that. The air is just too calm and clear for the Gamemakers to be letting use slide. By tonight, we need to get out of here, along with any other tribute around this area – if there even are any, other than us.

There's serenity for now, but it'll be goon soon.

''Pweh!'' Bree shuffles, babbling out words. I look down, only to notice that her eyes are slowly beginning to close, much quicker than I would like – actually, scratch that, I don't want them to close at all!

''Guys,'' I say, watching as her eyes dim more and more.

''What do we do?'' Beckett asks.

''Water, now!'' I command, my voice deepening and becoming rough – something that's never happened to me before. Beckett hands me a bottle and I take it thankfully. Opening up the lid, I splash some of the liquid into her face, and that wakes her right up.

She shakes her head around, licking at the sides of her lips like she's trying to place the water in her mouth. Now that I think about it, she's probably thirsty, too – so I place the bottle in her hands, studying her movements, and surprisingly, she manages to hold it properly and drink by herself.

''Well, would you look at that,'' Kaster smiles. ''She's much more capable of doing things on her own more than we thought.''

''Classic Bree,'' I add in. ''I guess it's that leader mentality that she has. Even in a state of perturbation, she's able to let us know that she's a strong one who's always hanging in.''

''What a vocabulary word,'' Beck laughs. ''Didn't think you knew more than the basic, everyday, common words that we all use.''

''Most people don't know,'' I grin.

''Yeah, 'cuz of how humble you are, dude,'' he says, still kind of shocked. ''You must be more intelligent than we give you credit for. We learn more things about you everyday.''

''I'm just really literate,'' I wave my hand, trying to focus away from the topic. ''But thank you.''

An eerie trumpet noise vocalizes from the sky, and my stomach sinks in. ''Guys, we gotta go,'' I say, not able to hold it back any longer.

''But go where, and why?''

''Anywhere but here,'' I choke. ''Something's not right, I've had a bad feeling all day. That noise in the sky's a warning call for something that's about to happen, and I don't want us to be caught in whatever the Gamemakers have planned.''

''Any ideas on what we should do?'' Kaster interrogates.

''Of course. Kas, you pick up Bree. You're the strongest one here so you can carry her down our pathway and protect her. Beckett, you grab a couple of our weapons and I'll take the bags, including Kaster's warhammer. We all have to distribute the things we carry properly so that no one's left behind. What I've noticed since we entered this cavern is that there's nowhere to go but down, and if we want to leave, we gotta slide. Be careful and we'll survive. It's a risk, but I'd rather leave with a few scars on my body than die.''

''Attaboy, Poet!'' Beck encourages. ''Didn't know you had this in you!''

''You're a special guy, you know?'' Kaster informs me.

Looking at the two of them, grinning with the widest smile in the world, I shift my eyes to Bree's face and say, ''I learned it all from her. Without her, I don't think I would be able to take charge like this.''

They both nod their heads, showing me respect, and that's the greatest feeling in the world that you could ever receive from your allies – from the people that you've become attached to and see as your family, because of how beautifully well you all connect and how much you love them.

''And it's the least I can do for her while she's in her current state – show the rest of Panem that not all of us from Six are pushovers. I bet she'd be proud.''

* * *

 **Bree Andersson, District Six**

* * *

Nothing's been the same since.

Every now and then, new things appear. ''New friends,'' you could call them – but they're never repetitive. They come in all different shapes, sizes, and colors. There's a spectrum of orange one moment, then blue and green the next. I don't know what's going on, but I feel so at calm.

''How you doin'?'' I hear, looking around for the strange voice. No one's there, nor do they appear even as the swirling, colorful patterns wrap themselves around my arms and legs. My face contorts into a grimace, but suddenly I start laughing, my cheeks turning weak and letting up. ''Ahh, that's the spirit.''

The slow voice comforts me, making me feel even more sleepy than I actually am. Something moves from the shadows ahead of me, and out comes a man with a top hat that hangs down to his eyes and an umbrella. When he picks his head up, all I can see is a menacing smile, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on edge.

There's just nothing more creepy than a person who's emotions don't match the situation. Everything is so soothing and calm, but this guy... Well, he's evil. His eyes are of the palest watery blue, like a creature who's spent its life in perpetual shadows.

His body moves awkwardly, slithering and oozing from one place to another, smiling, slinking, leering, head bobbing erratically as if it's too heavy for its long, thin neck with the protruding Adam's apple. Inching closer, I watch as his thin fingers begin stretching unnaturally long, each like the tendril of a parasitic plant, reaching, searching.

I know that it's dumb to be scared, but I can't help it. I breathe in and out, but the air won't enter my lungs. Starved for air, my mind races at tremendous speeds, and my lungs shallowly rise and fall in time. Standing here for what feels like an eternity, I feel the man's hands dexterously holding my face.

''Run! Get out of here,'' he snakes, hissing. ''Let your friends know and convince them to leave before the water hits!''

''Water?''

''It'll crash and destroy and you'll all be swept away, your cannons resounding in the air.''

He lets go of my face, and I'm stuck in a paralysis.

'' _BOOM!_ '' he shouts, startling me, my breaths finally returning but being hitched. The man's body absorbs into the ground below me, and I morph into the air, way above the clouds.

Three shadow figures form in front of me, all male, and they begin to run away. ''Poet!'' I yell out, quickly realizing who they are. ''Kaster, Beckett!''

Snickering is heard from their distance, and I feel so betrayed. They all turn around, sticking their tongues out and booing at me, when a splash of water drips over my head. Peering up, I see a ginormous wave that completely blocks the sky from my vision.

Before I can even take a deep breath – the one thing that I'll need the most in this situation, other than my allies' help – the wave crashes down on me and I'm submerged into the deep water, unable to float back up. My eyes pop open, and as my lungs begin to burn from holding my breath too long, I let go of everything and bubbles stream up from my mouth.

Realization hits me as my nostrils push forward and I'm able to breathe. My body finally floats up to the surface of the water, and I'm just there, floating.

My mind swirls, giving me the largest headache I've ever experienced in my life. The pain's too much to handle, and I let out a shrill scream, the throbbing continually bouncing against my skull. But then everything stops once more, and I begin giggling.

''This is weirdddddddd,'' I say, uncontrollably. The giggling keeps going, even as I force my mouth shut. It's like I can't stop smiling, like a madman – er, madwoman – even as my energy runs low.

But then everything stops. The world around me turns black, engulfing me and leaving me with no clear indication of what's going on. Weeping catches my attention, and to my left, I approach a man. He sits in an attitude of profound distress beneath the randomly appearing mass of rocks. His hands hang limply over his knees, his eyes red and staring at me, and his face wet with tears.

''What's wrong?'' I pout, tilting my head sideways and feeling... sad? Yeah, sad...

''You shouldn't be asking me that question.'' The man's eyes become clearer when he stands up, towering over me, like I'm an ant and he's a cyclops. ''You should be asking yourself that question.''

He falls to the floor, wrapping his entire body around my legs and slowly creeping up to my face. I try to move but quickly realize how futile it is when I bite my lip to keep from crying out. Sharp pain lances through my head, arms, legs, feet, and stomach. Colorful spots flash in front of my eyes, making it feel like my whole body's being beaten and every movement is causing some type of muscle or bone to ache.

''It hurts, just like the outside, doesn't it?'' he breathes, his voice low and cold.

 _Crack!_ I hear, feeling my left hand slam into something extremely rough. The pain is too real, making me wince. Even rolling my wrist causes excruciating pain to erupt from that area.

''Aw, does something hurt?!'' the man questions. His shape morphs into that of a beautiful woman with chocolate brown hair and angel wings, his voice changing, too. ''It's something burning on the outside, what you can't see – what you'll never see.''

Then he – she? – disappears, leaving me all alone, yet I still can't move, nor do I understand what I just witnessed. The darkness rips apart, splashing colors all over me. First I see rainbows, then the wondrous blue sky, then the universe, and beyond that. Everything keeps expanding more and more, but I can't do anything about it – still!

Man, this is the weirdest trip ever.

* * *

 **Clarice Auden, District Four**

* * *

''Hey, help me out a bit, please,'' I call, smiling at Zep. He turns away from his conversation with Atlas, pausing for a brief moment, but then he walks over towards me.

''Yeah, what's up?''

''You're much more talkative, I see,'' I raise an eyebrow. ''But, yeah, uh, can you help me out with this wound?'' Patting my shoulder, I show him the cut. ''This was inflicted during the Bloodbath and I just decided to pay it no attention – I couldn't let it hold me back, you know?''

''How'd you receive it?''

''I don't remember who exactly, but I was chasing another tribute and they stabbed me there. Didn't see it coming, to be honest. Thought he was just gonna crumble and let me end it quickly,'' I lie.

''You should know better than that,'' he sighs. ''But sure, I got you.'' Reaching into his bag, Zep takes out some type of saline solution and an elastic bandage wrap. He removes a small pad from the bag, too, pouring the solution on it and pressing it against my shoulder. I groan in pain, fidgeting with my hands, but he grabs my arm and holds it down as he tightens the bandage around my shoulder. ''Don't move that arm too much. You probably have an infection of some sort for leaving it exposed like that.''

''Told you something like that would happen,'' Emil smirks, overhearing our conversation.

''She good?'' Atlas walks over here, and Zep smiles. Smiles? I've known this kid for a while now, even before we Volunteered, and he's never been this emotional with someone. Always in the shadows, ego-less, icy, those are what describe Zeppelin – not outgoing, not friendly, not smiley. So what the hell?

''Yeah, she's fine,'' Zep says. ''She'll recover in no time, and then we can get back to making progress like we initially planned.''

''Good,'' Avery coughs up, '''cuz I was getting tired of us just sitting around and doing nothing. We could've eliminated two more contenders – traitors – from this Game, but Emil didn't wanna be a snitch.''

''Traitors?'' Zep inquires.

''Yeah. Blush and Adonis,'' Avery files in. ''Did we not tell you two about what happened?''

''No, we just figured that they went out to hunt while you guys came back and didn't bother to ask.''

''Oh... Well, they did. In the middle of the night of the Bloodbath, they took basically every necessity that we needed besides a first-aid kit that they spared Emil – and he didn't even say anything about it. Also, we came back yesterday – who the hell hunts for that long without returning, and why do you think that we didn't come back with as many items as we took with us? You guys really aren't that observant,'' Avery starts, his tone daring to turn into that of a condescending person's.

''Calm down,'' I interfere. The atmosphere around us isn't how I want it to be – currently, nothing's how I want it to be and that makes me want to pull my goddamn hair out! Zep's outgoing, Emil's enjoying himself, Atlas is starting to get in the way of my plans, Blush and Adonis are still alive, Avery's beginning to grow way too brave for comfort, and more than half of the tributes are still breathing!

''Shut up, pussy, don't tell me what to do,'' Avery growls.

''Who are you calling a pussy, pussy?'' I retort, biting back at him.

''Ha ha, you're both pussies,'' Emil laughs.

''Listen, I don't know about you guys, but I'm getting sick and tired of the repetitive shit that's going on,'' he says, clenching his fists. ''What have we done ever since the Bloodbath? Get our items stolen by our own allies? Gain injuries and become the least intimidating alliance in the Game? This is ridiculous!''

''Then leave the alliance,'' I shoo him away. ''If you're so bored with our progress, then get out. No one's gonna miss you. Bye.''

''What'd you say to me?'' Avery quickly takes a knife out of his pocket and points it at me. Staring at him coldly, I remain in my same spot, unfazed by his threatening stance.

''Okay, just calm down,'' Zeppelin grabs Avery's arm, pushing it downwards slowly. ''No need for conflict. Things are gonna change soon, right, Clarice?''

Remaining quiet, I bite down on my lips.

''Right? Who's the leader here? Didn't you all agree that you'd let me lead? So can we all just keep still and agree on something – for once, at least?''

''Fine,'' I hoist myself up, ''but only if things go properly.''

''And they will,'' Zep assures. ''What ideas did you have in mind?''

''Firstly, our priorities need to be straightened and organized,'' I start. ''Who's containing all of our food in one bag and all of our secondary-equipment in another bag? And instead of one group going out to hunt, all of us should go out. I mean, who's gonna come back to the Cornucopia until the Feast? Surely they should know by now that there's nothing left, so as a group, we can all scavenge together and pick off the remaining tributes. Things would be much easier then. Also, enough arguing, dammit! Just listen to one another and communicate, do things how they should be done, not how _you_ want them to be done. Lastly, no more of our items are being destroyed or stolen anymore, do you guys understand that?''

Just as everyone nods, we hear a _Chime!_

We all face upwards, watching as a medium-sized package lands in Emil's hands – the least likely candidate here to gain a sponsor. When he opens it, his eyes light up. _Move!_ my mind yells at me, and diving to the ground, I watch him pick up a microchip-like ball with circuits coursing through its outer surface, and throw it straight into the horn, where all of our remaining equipment is located.

In a few seconds, a series of flashes break out, lifting and spreading incandescent radioactive fumes, and then a great gush of flame rises. A column of pure hydrogen creates the explosion; the next blast of flames send everyone flying back, and I don't know if my mind's playing tricks on me or not, but I swear I heard a cannon. Great rags of fire, changing from red to violet and back to the spectrum of red again, go soaring away to dissipate not only the upper atmosphere, but the entire Cornucopia. The geysers of hot ash and molten rock spout upward; some of the white-hot debris lands right next to my face, barely missing me, and I shuffle away.

Through the fumes, I watch as Zep drags Atlas' body away from the blast, both of them coughing their lungs out. Avery flips through the fumes, rolling on the ground to escape, and I search for Emil.

Atlas seems to have taken the most amount of damage from the blast; as he's set down, clutching his arm and trying to cover his abdomen, he rolls one way on the ground, then another way, in agony. The pain's deep within his arm, stinging and burning, almost as if his humerus bone is smoldering.

And in the far distance, I hear it. Out through the flames, Emil bends over as sharply as he can, almost as if he'd just been punched in the stomach, and blood spatters out his mouth and to the dust at his feet. Everyone watches almost helplessly as the coughs continue to tear his mouth apart, his cries for help becoming unintelligible.

I wish he was dead! _He's gonna wish he was dead after what you do to him, ha ha._

''EMIL, WHAT THE FUCK!'' I scream, unable to hold back my anger. It's the first thing that we learn to do in the Academy, but for this bullshit to occur specifically after I just stated what should and shouldn't be happening... No, that's some stupid shit right there!

''CLARICE!'' Zep screams, but his words don't reach me.

Emil looks up, reaching his hand out for me to grab, but I send my foot flying into his face, upset with his current acts. I can feel my veins popping against my forehead, and I'm honestly so over this shit. I can't hold back anymore, I just can't!

''CLARICE, STOP!'' Zep finally reaches me, pulling me off of Emil's body. And when he grabs me, I feel my breathing becoming much more calm – and I hate to admit it, but whenever he's around, I'm able to ease up properly. He's the only person I've ever known who was able to calm me down other than Milah.

And whether that's good or bad, I don't know. He holds me back from doing what I want to do at times, and that's becoming a problem; not to mention his relationship with Atlas, which is conflicting for me.

Emil picks himself up, walking out a bloody mess. He's grotesque; his eyes are swollen over and bloody spit drools from his slack jaw. He can't see anything, and he won't be able to for a while now. His face bears congealed blood and and his clothes are an utter mess. Then he tries to say my name, his cracked lips failing at the first syllable. I see the little package of those stupid electrons still in his hand, and I'm tempted to just walk over there and destroy them all, but I don't know how they work and I'm not risking another explosion. With a wrinkle in my nose, I turn away from him and breathe slowly.

I see Avery looking at me from the corner of my eye, smiling cruelly. Looking up at him, I glare straight into his eyes, mouthing, ''You're next if you don't fix your fucking attitude.''

Shrugging, he sticks his tongue out at me, giggling to himself.

''If _any_ of you do some stupid shit like that ever again,'' I stop, taking out a pocket knife, ''I will fucking slaughter you!''

* * *

 **Colette Levine-Kane, District Two Citizen**

* * *

''Wow,'' says the male District Four Mentor. I stare at him, observing his movements, as we all sit around a crowded table. ''Wasn't expecting that...''

''Don't think any of us were, son,'' says the District Five Mentor. The cigarette smoke from his mouth twists in an artistic way, forming curls in the gloomy, illuminated only by the age-speckled bar lights. ''That tribute of yours is gonna snap one of these days.''

''What do you mean by she's gonna snap?'' I look up, asking as each Victor turn their heads to me and smile. Hero pats me on the shoulder, but then Marelle holds her hands out, hoisting me up to her lap.

''Well,'' she says, softly, ''it's kind of like the tribute loses their mind in the Games. Say—''

''Do you mean when something pushes them over the edge, like what just happened then?'' I ask, interrupting her. ''And my apologies for interrupting you; I was trying to make sense of things.''

''Oh, it's no problem at all, sweetie, and yeah,'' she cheers. ''Looks like you've already got the hang of things.''

''Hey, you ever think about enrolling her into the Academy, Hero?'' Griffin asks, taking a shot of some type of alcoholic drink.

''Noooo,'' Hero waves his hands, disagreeing immediately, despite no argument being made. ''I don't... Nah, it's just...''

''We get it,'' Conly laughs, placing his elbows on the table. ''You don't want her going through that bullshit like you did.''

''Language!'' Jianna bites, smacking Conly on the arm.

''Bitch, if you don't—''

''Language, there's a child present, Conly!''

''Damn, okay.''

''Maybe it's not so much that he doesn't want her going through the pain, but he doesn't want to lose her,'' Amille, from Four, suggests. ''Think about it – the boy just came off of a fresh victory, losing three people closest to him in the matter of days. I don't think he'd wanna risk his daughter going in and dying, too.''

''I guess so, but I think she'd make a mighty fine Career, if you ask me,'' Jamie chimes in.

''You say that about every tribute!'' I point to him, smiling widely. He laughs, throwing his hands up into the air and exaggerating a cough.

''You got me!''

We all go quiet then, sitting and staring at the television screen. Some of the things that appear, these Mentors won't let me see – especially Hero. A few things happened days ago between certain tributes, and some of the attacks were too gruesome, apparently. It's unfortunate, but if they say I can't handle it, then I should heed their warning. After all, they've been through this before, and I haven't.

''You know,'' I say, breaking the silence. ''I've never thought about the Games. I actually wanna go out and explore Panem, not hold myself down to Volunteering like every kid in my District does. Being different isn't bad, you know?''

''Being different is one of the best things that could possibly happen to you,'' says Jamie. ''Look at me, I'm different.''

''You're only saying that because you've got two tributes who are still alive, and you mentored both,'' District Six's Delan responds, gaining a smile from everyone. ''The rest of us are constantly on our toes. But, sweetie,'' he refers to me, ''you do what you say you wanna do. Don't hold yourself down because that's your District's ideal way of a future for their children. Show them that you can be something else.''

''That's not all our District holds us to,'' Griffin says, pretending to be offended. ''She could become a Peacekeeper if she wanted.''

''Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,'' Delan chuckles. ''You're in a much better mood than I'd expected, though. Guess you've gotten over Sigrid's death?''

''Yeah,'' Griffin sighs. ''Some come and go, and you can never predict who's going far and who's a Bloodbath. It honestly hit me as a shock, since I've never had a tribute die that early, but, you know, Brylan's tribute just _had_ to kill mine.''

Brylan, taking a sip of water, slowly places his cup down, searching around with his eyes as everyone stares at him. ''Oh, you mean me?'' the District Four Mentor swallows. ''Well, sometimes you just can't control your tributes. I told her to go out and do what she does best, and she ended up slaying yours. Not my fault...''

''You guys are ridiculous,'' I roll my eyes, smiling and crossing my hands together.

''You think we're ridiculous?'' Shion counteracts. ''You should've seen Hero last year. Even before he entered the Arena, he was the most lively tribute who found a way to make a joke out of everything. Before any of us became friends with him, most of us knew how fun he was to be around.''

''Wow,'' I say, looking up at Hero. He doesn't face us, probably zoned out or something, but I can't help but feel sad. _Look at what the Games does to people..._

Brylan gets up from his seat, reaching into his wallet.

''Where are you going?'' I ask, curious.

''Just going to send a sponsor item to Clarice,'' he says, pinching my cheeks softly as he walks by. ''Wasn't sure if she was truly worth it, but now I know.''

''I'll come with you,'' Shion springs up. ''I think Emil needs some help... Besides, after all the money I rounded up for him, I'm not letting him die.''

''Funny how his tribute almost killed your tribute and the both of you are sponsoring together,'' Gari walks into the bar, laughing at their misfortune.

''Shut up,'' they say in unison.

Gari ignores them and places a hand on Hero's shoulder. ''Hey, come with me to the Control Room real quick.''

''Why?''

''I gotta show you something – something big!'' Gari bounces on his toes, seemingly happy with what surely isn't gonna be good. We all stare at him, eyes focused on his body instead of the screen. The sound of horrified tribute screams emits from the television, but I close my eyes, paying no attention to their haunting voices.

Hero looks back at me, asking whether or not I'd like to come with them.

''No thanks,'' I smile ruefully. ''It's better I don't see what they're planning for the tributes. Don't wanna be spoiled, you know?''

I shy away, watching as they leave the room. I sigh quietly, pouting a little bit. The bartender walks over, holding a sundae ice cream out to me, saying, ''It's all yours, on the house.''

My eyes brighten with delight, and, grabbing it quickly, I say, ''Thank you, Mister!''

* * *

 **No Deaths**

* * *

 **A/N: Ayeee! First chapter of 2017, and I hope that your New Year Day went amazing. Hope you just had a blast, partied, got hella drunk, turnt tf up, did whatever you guys do on celebration days like that! This chapter was pretty fun writing, and it has to be my favorite No Death chapter that I've written by far. All the shit that's happening is just leading up for next chapter, which'll finally get things kicked again. I feel like next chapter might come as a shock to some of you, but it'll be two parts. So Day Four Part One and Two, and for specific reasons. We'll just see, actually. Anyway, I hope 2017 is starting off right for you guys and treating you well. I wanted to add Colette in this chapter because it's been so long since we've seen her, and I think I've gotten a POV in for everyone already, with an addition of one extra for like, two-three tributes probably. I don't really have any questions for you guys today, just really excited about the beginning of the end of these Games, 'cuz I think it'll come much sooner than you guys expect. Alsoooo, for Bree's POV, as you know, them plants drugged tf outta her and shit. So I didn't really know how to write or explain that, but I remembered the hallucination shit, and my mind immediately traveled to LSD - or acid, whatever you know it as. And I tried to represent that as best as I could. I dunno what an acid trip feels like, but I guess it's similar, with bright, flashing colors popping in your face and just shit changing depending on your mood? Shit, hopefully the writing was straight, tho, 'cuz I dunno. This chapter was just a bundle of randomness mixed with some serious stuff, and a couple of foreshadowing, so hopefully you picked up on that. This story will probably be ending soon, now that I think about it. If this second half of school doesn't kick my ass when I go back on the 9th or 13th - I don't even know the date - I think I could finish by middle to late February. If not, then surely early March. Or April, depending on my schedule. Don't take my word on that, though. I'm not that reliable, as you all know, ehhh.  
**

* * *

 **Basically, that's all for now. Hopefully you all enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you all have a wonderful day/night/you know the deal, wherever you are. See y'all next chapter, bye! ^-^**


	18. Loyalty, What's That?

**Day Four Part I:**

* * *

 **Ceres Morrisey, District Eleven**

* * *

My feet slip outwards on the wet autumn leaves as I round the corner of the meadow, back to the intersection of five roads. ''Cathodette, come on!'' I scream, looking back at her as I catch my breath, panting.

''I'm here, I'm here!'' she yells, sprinting full-force towards me. After my little intake of air, I look around, unsure of which path to take. ''Which one, which one?!''

''Doesn't matter, let's go!'' I breathe, starting up again. The cold afternoon air shakes my throat and lungs as I inhale deeper, faster. With each footfall, a jarring pain shoots from my ankles to my knees; perhaps jumping off of a hill, tens of feet in the air, and onto a large amount of medium-sized rocks beneath me wasn't the smartest idea. But to get away from this... thing, is better than letting it wrap itself around me!

My heart beats frantically, and it's all or nothing. If I fail, my whole body will pay the price – my entire life will pay the price. Glancing behind me, I see the creature's silhouette. Shuttering as I run, I catch the creature finally passing through the trees, the way it's moving so silently creeping me the hell out.

''Keep going!'' Cathodette pushes, forcing herself to catch up to me. Her breath comes in small spurts, hot and nervous. At her sides, her tanned fingers curl into sweaty fists, swinging forward as if they'll make her run faster.

All I can say is that being chased is nothing like it seems in the movies. Reality shows you the horror on your face and the movement that you're forcing in order to save your skin.

''CERES!'' Cathodette screeches, her voice becoming more distant. Turning around, I spot the cryptid biting Cathodette by the leg and pulling her back, blood oozing from her shin. The giant, four-foot-long earthworm continues to drag her leg into its mouth, until only one is left remaining, but it hasn't bitten it off yet. There's some type of liquid dripping from the thing's outer skin, tainted red with something that wreaks a terrible stench.

Running forward, I swing my sickle as quickly as I can onto the creature's spinal area – but does this even affect it? Does it even have a spine?

Guess it doesn't... The creature seems more annoyed that I tried to stop it from killing my ally rather than hurt by my sickle. It lets go of Cath's leg and she scrambles up to her feet, her skin peeling and the formation of bruises taking its place.

Just as I grab Cath's hand, ready to drag her along the leaves and twigs if I have to, the earthworm opens up its mouth, lets out a grotesque howl, and some type of acidic liquid falls to the ground in front of us, dissolving all of its remnants.

Pulling her along, her eyes wide and fearful, I hear her hiss as another batch of acid is spat, this time landing on her back and burning parts of her top, along with her skin. She screams, her voice extremely loud, so I cuff my hands over her lips and say, ''Shut up!''

''But it hurts!'' I hear her say through the muffling.

From the overhead trees, another earthworm jumps out, the exact same size as its counterpart. Cathodette, as horrified as she is, surprises me by slapping herself and rushing past me. ''Oh, so now you wanna dip, after I just saved you?!''

As the second creature travels towards me, I kick my foot forward, trying to scare it away, but my sandal flies off. Realizing that the second one is of no use to me now, I kick it off as well, since retaining the other one isn't an option, running across the twigs, fallen branches, and so much more with my bare feet, my soles aching in pain. My feet slip and I almost tumble over, more time I can't afford!

''Please, God, let me live,'' I pray, bumping into Cathodette and knocking the both of us down. The nearest worm digs underground, and I can feel the earth beneath me tremble. ''Oh, God!''

Rolling around and picking myself up, I cut over a couple of bushes to the left, Cathodette following soon after, landing roughly. I slowly skid, holding back a groan of pain. In front of me are the two tributes from One – Blush and Adonis.

Cathodette looks up, and I spot her mouth trembling, quivering with words about to slip. _NO_ , I want to say, but that'll draw their attention. Besides, before I can even bring my hand up to shut her up again, Blush turns around and snickers, tapping on Adonis' shoulder, just as Cath says, ''Holy crap!''

This is why those mutts chased us and are now nowhere to be seen – the Gamemakers wanted this, but what's worse is that Cathodette doesn't know when to shut the hell up so that _I_ could at least slip away!

Fuck, man!

* * *

 **Adonis DiMae, District One**

* * *

''No... you're a minute-man.''

''Are we seriously talking about this?'' I groan, rubbing my hand through my hair. ''Why'd you even bring it up? Our conversation literally had nothing to do with that.''

''I know, but it's just sad,'' she laughs. ''Plus, watching your skin boil like that makes me happy.''

''Whatever, it was my first time,'' I make an excuse, shrugging.

''Pathetic...''

''Still smashed, though, so no fucks given,'' I smile at her. ''And the amount of sponsors we received from it were worth the gain.''

''Just shows you how perverted those Capitol assholes are,'' she rolls her eyes.

''Be careful, they might send something after you if you don't watch your mouth,'' I snicker, attracting her into a silent laugh.

''Yeah, maybe you're rig—'' she stops all of a sudden, and I look to see what's up. She ceases to rub the cream on the wound in her thigh, staring up at the bushes instead.

''Holy crap!''

''Adonis, look,'' she points, and as I turn, I see the girls from Three and Eleven watching us. Eleven looks frightened but infuriated at the same time, while her ally looks like she's just gonna piss herself. ''They sent us two more things as a reward – tributes. Guess they want us to fight, huh?''

''Obviously,'' Eleven rolls her eyes, sickle in hand. ''Why else would they push us in this exact direction?''

''But you chose the pathway here!'' her ally disagrees with her. ''Come on, Ceres!''

''Shut the fuck up!'' she bites, hard, her hands trembling. ''Be honest with yourself – either way, those Gamemakers would have found a way to turn us off track and force us here. Wherever we went, we would've had to turn because they want a fight.''

''And we're gonna give it to them,'' Blush says, grabbing a large dagger from our weapon bag and charging at the Three girl.

She squeals, throwing up her hands awkwardly, barely managing to jump back. While the Eleven girl's distracted, watching her ally struggle, I pick up my javelin and swing at her. Her reflexes take over and she brings her sickle up smoothly, blocking one blade from entering her chest.

''Pretty good,'' I smile at her genuinely. Retracting my javelin, I quickly turn it to the single-bladed side and stab at her legs, watching her dance, before my fist connects with her jaw. She staggers backwards, wiping her mouth, holding back in order for the expression of pain not to surface on her face.

''You'd hit a girl?'' she asks, trying to make me feel guilty.

I shrug. ''I'd hit anything in order to get out of here alive. Anyone would, you should know that.''

Nodding her head, she whirls toward me, bringing down her sickle with swift movement. Grabbing it by the handle, I drag her closer to me, ready to shove my weapon straight through her stomach until she lets go and places distance between us, looks at Blush, and charges at her.

''The hell? Your partner's as good as dead, what's your motive?''

Just as I ask that question, she grabs Cathodette by the shoulders, barely avoiding a dagger to the throat, and pulls her back, until they hit a tree. Frantically, she looks around, sweat dripping from her forehead to the tip of her nose, finding no clear escape.

''I'm sorry,'' she whispers, barely audible, to her ally, before pushing her into me. Clutching her by the waist, I watch her ally take off into the bushes, leaving her sickle behind in the dust. Cathodette blinks, looking stunned but laughing at the same time.

''Hey, nothing bad's gonna happen, right? Ceres? Ceres!''

''Hate to break it to ya, but she's gone,'' Blush says, in a singing tone, ready to stab forward. ''Adonis, hold her still, honey.''

''No! No, she can't – she couldn't have! Stop lying to me, she would never betray me!''

''But... she would,'' I correct. ''Didn't she do the same to your other ally, back when Avery killed him?''

''God, no...'' The girl whimpers, her words becoming less and less clear. The dagger spins in Blush's hand just as she leaps forward, but Cathodette kicks her leg out and makes Blush buckle. Quickly taking advantage of our confusion, she slams the back of her head into my nose – causing me to let go of her – rips Blush's dagger away from her hands, and stabs at the open wound in her waist.

Blush yells in fury and pain, and the girl stutters backward, her face turning a pale sheet of ghost white as she drops the weapon and stares at the blood on her hands. A shutter runs through her body as she falls rearward, landing right in front of me. Getting up, using my javelin as a leverage, I hoist the weapon over my shoulder and bring it outwards.

''Satisfied?'' I look at her, our eye-contact never breaking. She soon closes her eyes, smiling to herself as if a miracle's been sent her way.

No sound leaves her lips as I slip the double-bladed side of the javelin into her pectoralis major, watching her eyes go wide with torment. When I yank my weapon out of her chest, she slips to the ground, blood pooling around her crumpled body.

''Asshole!'' Blush groans, clutching at her side. ''Let me kill her!''

''Are you serious?'' I ask, looking at her in the most ridiculous manner. ''Are you really that stupid?'' Before she can answer, I cut her off, saying, ''No, you're fucking hurt, calm down. You can't even move with that wound that you just had to leave revealed in order to fight – now it's worse, 'cuz you're terrible at decision making. Focus on that instead of worrying about your first kill, dammit.''

''Why, you—''

''Shut up, Blush,'' I say, serious this time. ''She's gonna die anyway. Look at how much blood she's losing. Either way, it's over for her – so instead of screwing yourself over, just let her die a slow death, 'kay?''

Blush's look falters, just a little bit, right before she stands up, gasps for breath, and grabs our bags. ''Let's go,'' she rasps.

Taking one last glance at Cathodette, I shake my head. Allies are just so cruel sometimes, abandoning – betraying – each other like that. ''Whatever you say.''

* * *

 **Vendetta Ischyroe, District Ten**

* * *

I thought I was ready, but I was wrong. Every single time I had a chance to kill off another tribute, I kept holding back. My mind would scream at me that it was wrong, that everything going on here _is_ wrong. Innocent kids! Can we think about that for a second?

What about all the future kids being born, who think life is all fun and games, until they see the horror on their television screens, realizing that in a few years, they could be here, in an Arena just like this, next.

Hell, they'll probably realize the horrors either way, unless they're from a Career District. But still... I thought that I could handle this – killing was honestly just another part of my regular lifestyle, but no.

There were alliances that I spotted, people that I could have picked off one-by-one, and none of them would have ever seen me coming. But my knife... j-just wouldn't fly out of my hand. I couldn't abduct them, kill them, and leave it at that.

Instead, I'm the one who's been abducted, captured by these twisted Gamemakers' creation.

In front of me, the alien-like creature shimmers in the air like the dome of a plasma lamp. Its outer layer wobbles somewhat like a jelly fish. Then, slowly, it takes a human shape and solidifies until it's a replica of me. Grunting, I try to get free, but the locks on my wrists and ankles keep me bounded to the dirty floor.

A stream of oozy liquid expels from the creature's head, dripping next to my stomach as it paces the area. ''Where are we?'' I ask, not expecting an answer.

''Under the hills,'' it responds, shaking me to the core. It cocks its head to one side and considers me from up close, then it strikes me... this thing doesn't need me – it never did. I was just a target for it to seek out. But is it a peaceful being or a killer?

''I've wanted you all to myself, before the others got to you,'' it smiles, the voice resembling my own.

''No!'' I cry.

It picks up a few of the knives that dropped from my hands when we first arrived here – when I was knocked out. Studying them like a book, the monster cackles sinisterly. Closing my eyes, praying for anything to save me, I feel a foot slam against my face. Stars corner the edges of my vision when I'm forced to reopen them, the taste of metal flooding my mouth.

I try to move, but the shackles I'm chained to limit my movement. _Come on, Vendetta!_ If I'm tolerant of pain, why am I so afraid? ''What are you gonna do, kill me?''

''Maybe,'' the alien says.

''Do it, then! It's not worth it anymore!''

''I'll let you know when I decide that,'' it says, the sound of metal waving in the air. I brace myself just as the knife in its hand slashes across my stomach, blood mixing in with my cloth. I cry out in pain, my face contorting into that of disbelief and trauma. ''Hurts, doesn't it? Oh, but I thought you were tolerant to pain?''

 _What?_ My eyes basically pop out of my skull.

''Don't look so surprised; after all, I can sense everything that you're feeling, and, oh, I know that it _hurts,_ '' it laughs. ''Did you think I was just another regular enemy of yours?''

''STOP!'' I scream, trembling as I feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes. This thing has the cornerstone of intelligence – its imagination, mind-reading, feelings, and apathy.

''I'll end it soon,'' it decides.

''Why are you doing this to me?!''

''Put it in my perspective,'' it pauses, playing with the knives. ''Success in killing you means that I get a higher promotion in status, but failure means that a mandate for the eradication of my problematic actions would take place.''

''And?''

''And, I do not want to be seen as the failure of my pack who dies because some stubborn little girl doesn't know when it's her time to lay in a coffin,'' it scolds. ''Anyway, I think that's enough talking for now. I have to claim your head, you must surely understand that.''

Before I can say anything, the knife is brought down, meeting my flesh, soft and pudgy, making a disgusting squish as the tip of the blade sinks deep enough to make me scream. Over and over again, the same act continues. My entire outfit, from head-to-toe, is stained with blood and gashed in several areas; most of it being driven into my chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

A loud noise crashes above of us, and at first, neither of us move. My brain's unable to make sense of the input from my ears. The ceiling above us is moving and the noise is like extended thunder. The walls scream, the eerie sounds throwing the alien off its game.

''Ha,'' I let a chuckle escape my lips.

''What's so funny?'' it asks.

''We're both gonna die, you know?'' Its face changes real quick from a sick, twisted smile to that of a nervous person's.

''That's not funny,'' its voice gets low.

''Whether we live or dies depends on how the Gamemakers want to treat us, and either way, our fate is a joint one,'' I tease. ''We'll either walk away hand-in-hand or perish in the rubble.''

''N—'' the creature stops when it sees my eyes travel to the exit of the hill, where I so desperately want to climb up to, but it's too late. When the water seeps through the hill's underground opening, it lets out a roar of, ''NO!''

It doesn't hit with the gentleness of spring rain but instead floods the entire cave. It's a wall of water, cold and powerful, that fells anything and everyone in its path. No emotion, no thought, no hesitation. It just comes, granting me my last request of breathing oxygen for these remaining few seconds before it wraps the entire hill in its frigid, foamy fingers.

I watch as the alien gets lifted up to the surface of the water, its head bumping into to the ceiling above us. A loud crack emits from its skull, just as it falls unconscious and the knife drifts away.

I can't help a small smile from finding its way onto my face. The water crashes over and over again, and all I can do is watch. Overhead, the remaining pieces of the underground surface come tumbling through the water, landing all over the place.

A large rock crashes into my stomach, forcing me to choke even more. My eyes burn with the saline, and as the rocks keep tumbling down, I see a particular, excessively massive one coming straight for my head.

You know, I never learned to swim, but even if I had, there's no way I can dodge this thing; the shackles are holding me back, my body's burning, everything's just wrong.

But hey, at least it's a quicker way for me to go, because drowning isn't so pleasant.

 _I'm sorry, Xavier._

* * *

 **Poet Monroe, District Six**

* * *

Pressing my back against the diamond-plated building, I let out a sigh.

''Smart call, Poet,'' Kaster says, trudging through the ankle-deep water. ''If we stayed back there, who knows what would have happened to us?''

 _Boom!_ The cannon sounds through the air, so unexpected, so harsh.

''That's what would've happened,'' I say, pointing to the air. ''Poor soul...''

''Hey, man, stay optimistic,'' Beckett encourages, holding my weapon extremely close to himself. ''At least it's not one of us.''

''Yeah, but it's only a matter of time before it is one of us – or three or all four of us.'' Frowning, I turn my head. A comforting hand rests itself on my shoulder, and it's Beckett again, always the friendly one. I return the genuine act by smiling at him. ''I think it's time that we get moving again.''

''Agreed,'' Kaster mutters, hoisting his weapon over his shoulder. Just as he picks Bree up and begins walking, he bumps into some type of invisible forcefield and gets pushed back, a zap forcing him to drop everything in his hands. ''Whoa..?''

Getting up from my short rest, I quickly try to reach Kaster, hoping that my prediction is incorrect. When I finally get near him, the same thing pushes me back, causing me to sprawl on the floor.

''No, no no no no no no.'' I place both hands on the back of my head, disappointed, upset with the Gamemakers for going this far.

''What's going on?'' Beckett asks.

''It's the Gamemakers!'' I fret. ''They trapped the four of us in here. Two people per section, and they want someone to die. Oh, no, no!''

''So we have to fight each other?'' Kaster wonders, looking at me with widened eyes.

''Yes!'' I cry, my voice cracking. ''I thought that we were in an auspicious situation for a while because of all the things we've managed to escape. But...''

''That's exactly it,'' Kaster groans. ''We've escaped so much that they've grown tired of us taking the easy way out – they want us to suffer like all the others. Every alliance has to crumble at some point, and for us, it's now...''

''So either Kaster kills Bree – because they're together – or you and I fight,'' Beck starts making sense of things. ''Kas...''

''No,'' he says calmly. ''I'm not killing Bree. That's not fair.''

''Put her out of her misery, man!'' Beck shouts, his voice hoarse. ''Look, she's barely awake! Just... kill her so that the three of us can get out of here. Please.''

''You can't ask him to do that,'' I frown at him. ''That's just wrong. She's the one who started this alliance in the first place, so why is that you want him to betray the one who's been so loyal to us thus far?''

''Because I don't want to fight you,'' Beck coughs up.

''And I don't want to fight you either,'' I say, narrowing my eyes to the machete. ''Especially because you have _my_ weapon in your hand...''

''Look—''

Both of our heads jolt to the scene behind us as we hear Kaster scream. A weird, hairless, bloated, gray-in-color dog-like creature with a massive build comes howling through the forcefield, biting out at his arm. Jumping away, he picks up his warhammer and glares at the mutt.

The dog, as large as us, if not bigger, retracts and looks at Bree. If looks could kill, I would've had a heart attack just by staring at its menacing gaze.

Turning to Beckett, I gulp, my palms extremely sweaty. Rubbing my hands down my shirt, I stutter. ''I-I-I t-think t-t-that we s-should... j-j-just get this o-over with...''

Looking straight ahead, he gives me a despairing smile. ''Hey,'' he says, waving the machete in the air. Tossing it to the side, he shrugs and says, ''Just hands?''

Despite me knowing that it'll take much longer, I nod slowly. ''Just hands.''

Readying ourselves, both of us not wanting to be the first to attack, we give each other sad smiles. Beckett makes the first move just as Kaster chases the mutt away from Bree's helpless body.

The first punch is thrown, and Beckett's fist sinks into my stomach. I gag, stumbling away from him for a brief second before he sprints back at me, his eyes narrowed in determination.

I dodge his left hook, continuing to backpedal until I hit the forcefield. ''Come on!'' Beckett groans. ''Fight me!''

Ducking as I try to ignore the zap of pain, I run away from him. ''I can't!''

His fist slams into my face, blood pooling in my mouth. Beckett stands there breathing roughly, holding his arm as the pain blazes to his knuckles. I stand there, so incredibly surprised at the pain in my mouth that I don't even see him coming closer.

Grabbing me by my shirt, he looks me in the eyes, trying his hardest to snap me out of my reverie. ''Poet!''

''I... I can't do it, Beck!''

''Poet, I can't hit you if you don't fight back,'' he shrieks. ''It... it doesn't feel right. If you don't grow a backbone and nobody dies, then we're all gonna be killed! Do you want that? So either you kill me or I kill you!''

 _Everyone dead, and all because of you, possibly? C'mon, Poet, end this!_

Pushing Beckett away from me, my hand automatically flies forward, my balled fist colliding with his cheekbone. As he stumbles, he nearly falls over, rubbing his cheek with his palm. Judging by his look, my attack took him by surprise.

''Where'd that strength come from?'' he cries, regaining his balance.

''I... don't know,'' I smile, but that's all we say to each other before attacking again. A sudden gush of pain jolts throughout my body. My stomach aches, my arms lose tension and my legs begin to weaken. Beck shakes me around, stars bursting in my vision, but I try hard to shake them off.

Throwing up a sloppy kick, I watch as Beckett steps back, easily evading. I growl at myself and throw my body at him, only changing direction at the last minute when his fist comes up again. As he misses, Beckett grabs me by my arm and pulls me closer to his body, bringing a fist to my face once again and snapping my nose into a grotesquerie.

My head pounds, but blood hums in my veins as determination and anger takes over me. Again, Beckett goes for my face, trying to draw even more blood and damage my vision. Bruised and winded, I throw my body weight behind his edging fist, allowing it to hit my jaw with such force that even more blood pools in my mouth.

Pain erupts from the force of impact, but with my own two hands, I grasp his head and bring my knee cap up to his nose. There's a blunt crack and I release his fluffy brown hair. Crimson leaks from both of his nostrils and his nose is twisted right.

My guts smash together, blood vessels bursting as I draw my fist back and slam it into his stomach; it's like hitting a train head-on. Repaying him the favor of what he did to me earlier, I punch his jaw, my fist colliding with all of my body weight.

Over and over, I continue to batter until he falls to the floor. His chest gently rises and sinks with each shallow breath that he draws. Through the corner of my vision, I see the mutt pounce on Bree. ''Kaster!'' I scream, just as he tries to slam his weapon onto the beast. But because of how quick it is, the mutt leaps away, forcing Kaster to use all of his energy in order to not accidentally kill Bree.

A sigh of relief escapes me, but when I turn around, I regret letting my guard down. The machete – _my machete_ – that Beckett has in his hands sinks into my gut, and he's angling it forward, pushing it deeper and deeper into me. He looks at me with pity in his eyes, as if he's sorry. But there's no way anyone can be sorry after doing something like that; lying, and then stabbing me behind my back.

''Fists... only?'' I fall forward, unable to stop myself from crashing to the ground. Luckily for me, I'm on my side, so the machete doesn't protrude through my back. But still, this is terrible – absolutely terrible.

Pulling out the machete by its handle, Beckett throws it away, back to the exact same spot that it landed at before – almost like nothing happened. He couldn't take the risk of dying by my hands – even though, in all honesty, I could never bring myself to killing another human being. And that's exactly what we all are – human.

My chest expands as I grasp at the wound, unable to stop the blood from leaving my body.

''I-I... I lost control, Poet... I-I-I'm s-s-s-sorry...''

 _No you didn't,_ I think to myself. I can't even say anything in response, or aware Kaster of my downfall. But I think he knows now, as the mutt flees and realization takes place.

''Poet?'' I hear. ''POET!''

It's over, unfortunately. I'm gonna miss everyone; my family, my friends, Bree, Kaster... even Beckett. But I can't say my goodbyes. Darkness takes over my vision, and I can feel my chest steadily falling for good. The only thing confirming my death is the sound of another cannon blasting through the air.

Hopefully I'll see everyone on the other side some day.

* * *

 **Zeppelin Cross, District Four**

* * *

Blades drawn, Blush and Clarice start going at it. Knife against dagger, metal clashing against metal, Career against Career. I sit back, thinking of how wrong the Gamemakers are for forcing us together like this. So early...

Atlas charges Adonis, but to his surprise, Adonis is as ready as can be. With the swing of his double-sided javelin, he cuts Atlas on the cheek and shoulder tackles him. The wind is knocked out of his trachea and he falls with a thud.

Avery, as bloodthirsty as ever, rushes Adonis, catching him off-guard. Lunging with two knives in his hands, he aims for the taller boy's neck. ''Seriously?'' Adonis says, managing to dodge.

I should be fighting with them... but I can't bring myself to doing it. Father's probably staring at the television screen right now, biting his lips, wanting me to jump into the action and eliminate all the other competitors; and Leslie... she never knew how to handle my passion, or the reason of going into the Games to kill. And now, I understand her feelings, because I'm using Emil as an excuse to not get any more blood on my hands.

''You're absolute shit!'' Clarice scoffs, laughing as she overpowers Blush. ''To think that I didn't kill you in the beginning makes my skin boil. How the hell did you even survive this long?''

''Because I'm loved by the people out there, and they want to see me make it far,'' Blush answers, struggling. Resulting to last efforts, she elbows Clarice in the stomach and swings her dagger upward, giving Clarice no other option than to jump back.

I see Clarice look at Avery, giving him a wiggle of the eyebrow, telling him to corner Blush against a tree in silence. Avery hops away from Adonis, springing up to his feet in joy, calling out, ''I don't really wanna kill you, y'know? You're fun, unlike her.''

''Huh?'' Adonis says, unaware of their plan. But as Avery bumps into Blush, stabbing his knife into her side, Adonis' eyes go wide with anger. He tries to chase after, but Atlas grabs him by the arm, holding him back. Adonis wastes no time and instinctively elbows Atlas in the jaw, sending the boy staggering.

''HEY!'' I call out, but he pays me no attention. Atlas starts to fall back, and just as he turns, trying to hold onto his jaw, Adonis stabs a blade into the crook of his leg. As a scream leaves Atlas' lips, Adonis pulls out the javelin, stomps on his ankle and twists his foot, the cracks of Atlas' bones bouncing off of tree-to-tree.

''Don't fucking touch me ever again!'' Adonis snarls, losing his temper – and for the first time since any of us have known him, he's not so chill. He's not laid-back, calm, cool and collected; he's furious. It's not even funny when he grabs Avery by his neck, tosses him to the side, slams his face into the ground and forces dirt into his mouth.

Clarice swings her knife at his thigh. It sinks into him, but that only makes him even more upset. It's like he's possessed or something. He grabs her with a fist full of hair and disarms her.

''Ahh, get off!'' Clarice screeches, but Adonis sticks the javelin in her abdomen. And if he wasn't so blinded by anger, I think he would've killed her right then and there, but the weapon doesn't go deep enough. Clarice buckles down to the floor on her knees. Adonis advances, eyes bitter with emotion. But then he stops and turns, catching sight of me and Avery.

My eyes travel away from him, though, and I stare at the knife stuck in Blush's side. I won't lie and say that Adonis' gaze doesn't intimidate me, because we all see now who the strongest Career that these Games has to offer is... But if he was a little bit more serious, I think he could've won this fight and killed all of us.

 _Would have._

Through the trees, loud stomping grows and grows until a large-headed, small-bodied giant emerges from the deep forest. It's nothing that any of us expected – we all stare at the beast in shock; Atlas, Clarice, Avery, Adonis, Emil and I...

''W-What the f-f-fuck...'' Emil tries, his body barely managing to move.

It bares its perfectly squared teeth, smiling perilously. There's no warning call for any of us before it starts searching for the nearest target – and that's Adonis.

He doesn't see it coming before the mutt, as tall as a tower, swoops him down in its palms and squeezes the life out of him. Adonis struggles, thrashing against the monster's tight grip, but manages to slip one of his arms free and stab its large hand.

The mutt screams, the blow doing nothing but infuriating it. ''FUCK OFF!'' Adonis shouts, his voice filled with anger. He tries and tries again to get this thing to let him go, even going as far as throwing the javelin in his hand with all of his might, abandoning his only weapon that provides a source of defense.

Unfortunately for him, the weapon barely misses where the heart is located, and with the pain scorching through the beast's body, he rips out the weapon, glares at Adonis with a look that I can't even characterize, and tosses the javelin away.

Blush slowly gets up and grabs Adonis' weapon, managing to slip undetected. ''Yoouuu hu... hurt... me!''

Nothing is said after that. This thing spoke... And before we know it, Adonis is screaming at the top of his lungs. ''GET THIS THING THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! TARGET SOMEONE ELSE, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, YOU FUCKING ASS! OUT OF ALL THE PEOPLE IN THIS PROXIMITY, I'M THE ONE YOU TARGET! FUCK OVER THE LARGER ALLIANCE, DAMMIT! YOU DISGUSTING, HIDEOUS, MEANINGLESS CHUNK OF MEAT! DISAPPEAR FROM THIS WORLD AND JUST DIE! GET AWAY!''

Understanding his words, the monster's eyes dilate, and he tosses Adonis into the air, taking a large bite out of his two legs, ripping them off in a mere instance. The sweat rolls down his face as pain and fear take over.

''BLUSH!'' he calls out, trying to wiggle free. ''BLUSH, PLEASE!'' Despite his pleads for help, she falls forward in her footsteps, running away without looking back, his weapon in her hands. She disappears into the forest's decrease. ''NO! NO! I TRIED TO PROTECT YOU! I KNEW I SHOULD'VE LOST FAITH IN YOU!''

His words mean nothing now, even as his head is leveled into the mutt's mouth. He groans, clearly from the blood loss, seeming as if he's lost all feeling in his arms. ''STOP! PLEASE DON'T!''

In his short, intense silence, he somehow screams with his entire body. His eyes go wide with horror, his mouth falls rigid and open, his chalky face becomes gaunt and immobile, his fists somehow clench with blanched knuckles and his nails dig deeply into the skin of the giant's hands.

But for him, everything's shortened quickly and simply. Seemingly annoyed, the mutt shoves Adonis' head into its mouth, leaving only the rest of his body exposed, and takes a huge chunk, popping every single nerve, blood vessel, artery – in short, everything in his head – decapitating him with one swift bite.

His body goes limp, everything falling with gravity as the mutt turns away and walks back into the forest, with his cannon blasting in the wind.

The last remaining bit of him which remains is a pendant that falls from his pocket.

* * *

 **16th - Vendetta Ischyroe, District Ten**

 **15th - Poet Monroe, District Six**

 **14th - Adonis DiMae, District One**

* * *

 **Wizard, Vendetta was a very interesting tribute. Her assassin background and killer vibe that she gave probably made everyone think that this girl was a final three type of competitor. Unfortunately, she wasn't, and I'm sorry. I haven't really heard from you in like seven months, and you haven't updated in forever, so I don't know if you're still around. If you are reading this, though, Vendetta just wasn't a fit for me to bring extremely far. She was fun writing, no doubt, and I loved the connection with her family. Unfortunately, though, I didn't have a lot of plans for her in the beginning. But then, I realized that after all of the killing, this Arena could really mess her up. She killed bad people, but these kids were innocent - most of them. It was better that I killed her off here rather than make her go insane. Writing tributes go insane isn't really my thing, but I didn't wanna try my hand at it with her. Her downfall was going by extremely quick, and I knew that when she hesitated against Taisiya. Sorry, man, R.I.P.**

 **Anna, holy crap, I hate myself for this. I think you all hate for me after this. Poet was the most innocent, and arguably the best tribute in this story. He was a bundle of joy who I loved writing. Every POV that I had coming up for him was usually the highlight of the chapter. Unfortunately, I had Poet as an early death for a while. I kept arguing with myself and wanted to make it how other authors do and drag the innocent kid out really far, just because of how much others and I really liked him. He just wasn't the type of tribute to kill another. That fight with Beckett, that was always planned. When I first created the alliance, I had that happening because the plans that I had for Poet were going to destroy him and make him lose his mind. Things would have gone terribly wrong, and I didn't wanna do that to him. A lot will be revealed next chapter, or in the next few chapters but just little scattered pieces of information. Poet will have a massive impact on the other tributes, though, that I can tell you for sure. He was incredible, and I hope you don't hate me for this. R.I.P. Poet.**

 **Frankie, this broke my heart. Adonis was my favorite tribute in this story. I'm always in favor of District One, I think a lot of you know that now judging by how I write them and lowkey give them advantages and stuff. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ When I got Adonis and Blush's submissions, I knew something was gonna backfire. Blush was always gonna take advantage of him and make him fall for her with lust, use his family against him, the thoughts he had and stuff. The ideas were always in my mind from the start, and I hesitated writing this out. Adonis was definitely the most talented tribute in this story, with the most interesting background and my favorite personality overall. He had that awesome vibe that I love in people who I meet, and he was just sooooo damn chill. Killing him so early really had me all types of fucked up, but his death wasn't for no reason. After Blush abandoning him and all the other Careers seeing him get decapitated by a giant mutt, I'm pretty sure you're all expecting some fucked up emotions to arise. I'll deliver for sure on that, but I'm sorry about this death. It's really unfortunate killing off one of your tributes, and you remember that this is the Games and only one survives. Trust me, this was a hard decision to carry out. I hope I wrote him well enough, because it was fun while it lasted. R.I.P.  
**

* * *

 **A/N: Ayee! So yeah, this chapter hurt. But next chapter will probably hurt as well because of the things awaiting the rest of these tributes. I always say that, so y'all get it by now - shit's about to go down. That's really all I have to say, because it's night for me and I kinda wanna go out and do shit, or just chill, y'know? But I hope you guys liked this chapter, or hated it, or had mixed emotions, I don't know. A few questions, if you don't mind?**

* * *

 **Worst death of the chapter? Like, most horrible way to die, and who you didn't wanna see die?**

 **Any tributes who died here who you weren't expecting to die? And who were you expecting to die?**

 **Since tributes are gonna be dying quickly now, who do you predict making the final 3? I know it's early, but I'm really interested in your thoughts and opinions.**

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Hope y'all don't hate me too much. Oh, and no, Cathodette's not dead. I'll see you guys next chapter, bye! ^-^**


	19. Un Deux Trois Quatre Cinq

**Day Four Part II:**

* * *

 **Avery Billings, District Ten**

* * *

We march in silence, no-one speaking about what we just saw a few hours ago. It's like they're trying to forget about it. Unlike me. That was surprising as hell, but it was awesome nonetheless. I seriously thought that Adonis had us beat... Gritting my teeth, I stop as the rest keep walking forward.

Emil turns around, noticing me, finally in top-notch shape again after the sponsor gift that he received healed all of his wounds. ''You alright?''

''No, I'm not alright,'' I shake my head, slowly reaching into my pocket for a knife. Everyone else turns around, all staring at me with questionable eyes. ''You guys are pathetic, you know?''

''What do you mean by that?'' Emil wonders.

''Don't act stupid, kid!'' Usually I can compose myself and hold back my feelings, but this time... No, never, not after everything that's happened so far. ''You're all failures. A bunch of lames! Four days – can we think about that for a second? Four fucking days, and we've only acquired five kills; and those were all the way back in the beginning. Joining you losers was a mistake.''

Clarice raises a brow, eyes fixated on me. ''Yeah, I guess it was. So you should leave now, correct?''

''Yeah,'' I nod. ''Being out on my own would be for the best. Packs have to break sometime, right? Why not now?''

''Because it's only _you_ that wants to leave,'' she sighs, controlling her emotions and not being 'Ms. I Want Things To Be This Way'. Surprised at how calm she is, I grit my teeth.

''You're weak,'' I point, hands shaky in the wind. ''And you, and you, and you, too!'' Zeppelin stands away from the rest of us, a little bit behind Atlas – who looks all types of fucked up, I should add. Adonis' extreme death has fazed him. ''You've all let the Game get to your heads. Death is so bad for y'all? Didn't you guys volunteer for this because it's what you wanted to do? – kill, for whatever cliché reason you hoes came up with?''

''You volunteered for this, too, didn't you?'' Clarice leans forward. ''What makes you so much more different than us, other than the fact that we're more experienced and trained?''

''I fucking enjoy this shit, that's the difference,'' I answer. ''You guys aren't even in the mood to fuck some shit up anymore. Originally, I was planning to screw this Arena apart – the entirety of Panem was waiting for us to tear this bitch upside down, but we've been nothing more than disgraceful, unmotivated, irrelevant, ill-advised, laughable Careers!''

''Nobody asked for you to give us a lecture,'' she chokes out. ''Just leave. I don't have any use for you anymore. You're a wild-card, someone who's unable to be controlled. Go out and do whatever you want. We don't want you in this alliance anymore. Every night that you slept, we pondered whether we should have killed you or not. You're alive because we had strength in numbers – not because you were a necessity – which allowed us to scatter even more. But you've been just as sluggish as us.''

''Oh?'' I stare daggers at her. ''Really? So not only have you guys been spewing shit, but you dare put me in the same impotent category as yourselves? You guys aren't anything special! And you know what? I am leaving.''

''Good, bye.''

''But not without blood on my hands.''

When I charge, nobody's sure of what to do. ''Wait!'' Zeppelin cries, trying to be the peacemaker, but my conflict isn't with him – it's with her. She barely manages to slip the knife out of her skirt when I cut the back of her wrist, drawing blood in a fine line, watching as it flies through the air and lands on the ground in little droplets.

''Slick,'' she says, paying no attention to the cut. Her knife gleams in the light as she arches it forward, swinging for my neck so quickly that my mind doesn't make sense of what's happening. I lean backward, feeling the knife graze my chin and cut a piece of skin off.

''Sucks that you don't have range with that stupid spear you're so fond of. Fortunately for me, Emil burned it a few days ago. Thanks, Emil!'' I laugh. Realization hits me when, through my peripheral vision, I see that all three of the boys are just staring at us. ''Your allies aren't helping you? Aw.''

''Don't need 'em,'' she spits, literally. A wad of saliva blinds me for a second, pissing me off to the core. I wipe the disgusting body fluid away from my eye, rushing and tackling her to the floor. She groans; I groan. Trying to get the best of her, I slam my knee into her gut, making her wince.

''You're confident for someone so fucked,'' I breathe, brandishing my knife against her cheek. ''I would say 'Don't worry', but honestly, I'm gonna cut you piece-by-piece, open you up until I reach your heart, then I'ma pull it out and shove it in your mouth.''

My mind travels back to her wounds, and I remember that she was stabbed in the shoulder... Though it is sorta healed, she hasn't been placing enough of the cream on it to make a true difference. Shoving my knife into her shoulder, I twist and twist, cackling as she screams.

Her knee tries to shoot up at my crotch, but I hoist myself off of her, ripping my knife out. ''You think I'm stupid? That's, like, the go-to move for every female when fighting a male. Thought you 'Careers' were supposed to be the superior beings who were unpredictable.''

Because I'm so lost in my cocky thoughts, I don't see her thrashing up, grabbing me by my collar, and stabbing me in the side of my rib. A haunting scream emits from me, but my lips soon twist into a sickening smile. She looks at me confused, eyes hard, though.

''Come on, more!'' I shout, fueled by the fight. Her elbow slams into my chest, and she uses all of her weight to force me backward, my feet skidding against the wet, encrusted streets of this beautiful city. I feel my back slam against a rough building, my head bouncing with a crack. My vision goes hazy, but I don't care – I'm loving this.

Clarice brings her knife up with both hands, aiming for the center of my chest, but I bring down a hand and hold on tight, countering her failed attempt at an attack. Her hands quiver with force, but they aren't inching anywhere near me. ''You're being overpowered by a fifteen-year-old,'' I shine light on her. ''What are your peers thinking back at home?''

With the knife in my free hand, I push it into her abdomen, right where Adonis struck. Yeah, that's the spot... Her horrifying, gruesome shriek brings so much pleasure to my ears that it's almost like a symphony. Tears well up in the corner of her eyes, and she tries to wrestle my grip away.

I rip the blade out and shove it right back in. Two times, three times, four times. The fifth, sixth, seventh, eight, ninth, tenth and onward should surely kill her. But just as I try to stab her again, I feel a sharp, thick, long blade go straight into the side of my belly. Looking down, I see my blood locking itself around Zeppelin's quarterstaff, dripping and splatting in rivulets.

''Oh?'' I ask. ''What's this?''

''I must ensure that District Four has the best chances of a Victor, and that includes protecting and assisting my District Partner at all times,'' he says, like he's reciting something that someone told him to repeat through an earpiece.

''Wow, and you couldn't have come at a much worse time,'' I roll my eyes, speaking clearly through the pain.

Clarice takes advantage of my weakened grip and stabs her knife into my chest, right in between my ribs, and my body goes numb. Slumping over on my knees, she catches me, and my head rests on her stomach. ''Suck it,'' I chuckle, using all of my force to swipe my knife at her left eye – unfortunately, it just misses and hits the underlying part where her bags are located. She screams out in pain, clutching at the wound, and I try to take advantage but the earlier attack limited my movement – I'm completely exhausted.

After a few minutes of her screaming, crying and sniffling, she places me down softly, staring down at me with blood dripping from her eye's general area. She looks so uncomfortable, and that's how I know I've left an impact on all of these kids. If she's been fucked by my words and actions, then surely the rest of them have been as well.

''What a bitch move,'' I say, looking up at Zeppelin. Using my last breath to let a little bit more out, I add, ''I'll have my revenge on you from beyond the grave, pussy.''

Clarice angles the knife perfectly, and as it descends, I see it curving straight for my parietal lobe. Entering through my head and touching my brain with the amount of force that she's put into the attack, blood pools from the tear. I barely feel it, to be honest, but even so, a smile glues itself onto my features.

 _I was born in blood; I went out in it._

* * *

 **Atlas Aureliano, District Two**

* * *

Avery's cannon sounds, bouncing off of the luxurious building walls, and we all go silent. Zeppelin looks like he's okay with the kill – nothing like the way he looked after ending the little girl from Twelve's life way back when.

Maybe it's because he was protecting his District Partner, someone who he's got a tight bond with, I guess. Either way, everything's been different ever since earlier today. The tension and pressure has hit me harder, and I feel like something's just not right.

Someone's close, I can sense it, and I'm afraid that we're gonna have to fight. After everything... I just don't feel right. I don't even want to be here anymore. _Volunteering for the District's honor?_ What was I thinking? What's making them proud compared to my life? What if I do return to the District, but in a casket?

My life would be wasted... I want these Games to end already – and the only way to make that happen is by killing off the rest of my competition – but I feel so wrong.

''Hey, come on,'' Zeppelin bumps my shoulder softly, smiling as he walks past me. ''Time to go.''

Dragging my feet, I casually catch up to the rest of the pack, staring back at Avery's body. The blood is just pouring out of the wound in his head, like a never-endless waterfall. It's creepy and disgusting all the same – although, I can't help but feel like the kid was happy with the way he died. He was obsessed with blood, after all. Still, though...

''Don't look at it,'' Zeppelin orders. ''I can tell that things have changed for you... We've all been messed up by this Arena one way or another, but, the best advice I can give you is to just keep your head up.''

''I know,'' I whisper, scratching at the goosebumps on my arms. ''But I've become uncomfortable lately, and a lot just doesn't feel right. The air smells differently, my movement's shifted, and I'm feeling a little suspicious about everyone.''

''You're probably paranoid,'' he sighs. ''I am, too, though. I'm not into this whole killing stuff all too much, and I can tell that you've fallen off the conflict radar as well. After what happened, I think we just need to sit down and rethink our ways.''

I ponder what he just said for a few moments, nodding with my own little seal of approval. But just as I open up my mouth to speak, Clarice says, ''There's someone near. I heard weeping.''

 _Oh, brother._ As I listen more intently, I can hear the noise growing louder and louder. Clarice turns back and stares at us, ready to take out the same bloody knife that she slain Avery with; Emil turns, too, holding his hands over the back of his head.

''Don't get too excited to go after them,'' he warns. ''You ever heard of something called an ambush? What if whatever or whoever that is saw us and is only trying to lure us after them?''

 _Chime!_

A golden spear drifts from the sky and lands at Clarice's feet. She picks it up, rips the note off, reads it slowly, and then says, ''That's okay, we'll manage. I've gotten my final, most expensive sponsor gift of the Games, and you have like, thirty more of those explosives in your box. If all hell breaks lose, just toss 'em around and get us out of there.''

''Gotcha,'' Emil smiles, though when Clarice turns around, his happiness fades away. Even he seems like he's been messed up. He didn't even spare a glance at her sponsor gift – and usually, he would've been wanting to sabotage it in some way.

Looking up at the sky and barely managing a breath, I almost laugh out loud. _This just isn't fair._ Two's probably keeping their eyes locked on me at every moment, including right now. I'm their only chance at a Victor for the duration of these Games, but my odds don't seem to be the best since a ton of other Districts have both of their tributes still remaining.

Four, Eleven, Three, and Six, as of now – but then again, three cannons sounded today. One we know for sure was... A-Adonis...

''Hey,'' Clarice grabs my hand and squeezes it tightly, dragging me forward. ''You can't just stay still like that when everyone else is moving. Chill out with the silent treatment that you're giving us, because we've found another victim.''

 _Victims,_ we're now calling them – not opponents, not adversaries, not competition, but victims. Around the corner of a little neighborhood of homes that are the height of towers, water floods on the street, draping all of us up to our shins. The water's deep enough to drown a person in. _Maybe you could get rid of someone right now? Better your chances._

No... No.

There's a boy sitting on the doorsteps of a particularly small home, holding both hands up to his head as if he's trying to block out certain noises. ''Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone!'' he curses at himself. Clarice, being ballsy as ever, drifts through the water, not giving a care in the world to make her movements quiet and unnoticeable. She reaches him, lifting her legs up onto the steps, and splashes water in the kid's face, his eyes springing open.

Before he can even do anything, she stabs the spear into his shoulder and hoists him up. The kid would've probably stayed sitting down if the spear wasn't tearing into him and controlling his movement. ''I'll make it quick,'' she promises. ''I've got no time to waste, so just kindly let me kill you.''

''Get away!'' he screams the same words that Adonis did, slamming his hand into her chest and pushing her back. The spear rips out, and Clarice falls back into the water, her entire body becoming soaking wet. She pushes her hair away from her face and jumps back up, ascertaining as the kid turns away and runs.

''You guys ready for a hunt?'' she questions, clearly hell-bent with the jumping emotions on her face. If it wasn't for the water that she fell into, I would have accused her of crying.

''Of course,'' Emil yawns. ''I mean, who isn't excited when it comes to another death? Things like this happen everyday, don't they? This is just regular Panem in a tightly compacted Arena with fewer people. Hurry and eliminate him – and if he has an alliance, then just have more fun.''

''That sarcasm?''

''I don't know what you're talking about,'' Emil responds.

I can just feel the Capitol cheering outside, ready for some more action. But I'm not. Taking a single step forward, I turn to Zeppelin and shake my head. I'm so uncomfortable at this point, but the entertainment must go on, right? And Two; I can't disappoint them, can I?

Wanting to say something sarcastic, feeling myself boiling up on the inside, I keep my mouth shut and tighten my fists. My shoulder flings my backpack off and I reach in for my machete. Keeping myself in check right now is difficult, but lashing out won't do me any good.

''Yeah, let's go. The fun's only begun.''

When we reach the area that the boy ran off to, we see him speaking with another male, scared out of his mind. What catches my attention is a girl lying on the floor lazily, like she's drunk or high or something of the sort, making weird noises and babbling out nonsense.

''Ahem...'' Clarice coughs, forgetting the advantages of a surprise attack – once again. The boy from Eleven, I judge by the number on his shoulder, looks up. His eyes grow wide, and he searches everyone in line, trying to find _someone_ with a hint of hesitation in their stare.

When we make eye-contact, my eyes flutter uncontrollably, and I feel as though he senses the pity that I feel.

Clarice, sticking her spear out forward, calls out and says, ''Make it easier for yourselves and just...''

* * *

 **Kaster Navelle, District Eleven**

* * *

''...Give up?'' I ask, interrupting her sentence and almost laughing out loud. ''Sorry,'' I grunt, picking myself up and grabbing my weapon, hands gripped confidently, ''but I'd rather hang myself than sit still and let you kill me.''

''That cannon... that you just heard?'' the Four girl returns, pointing up to the air. ''Was because of me. It's your decision, but either way, all three of your cannons will be because of me as well.''

Her District Partner looks down at her with a glint in his eye that says she's lying or something. He shakes his head calmly, then stares back up at us, a breath drawing from his throat. ''Whatever,'' I yawn. ''I'm not scared of you _or_ your alliance, or anyone at all, as a matter of fact.''

Pointing at me now, her arm declining, she states, ''You're dead!''

Preparing myself as she charges, I grin widely. ''Maybe it'll end up being the other way around, don't you think?'' She swings her spear at my neck, and swiftly, I duck under it. Using all of my strength, I do the best I can to slam the end of my warhammer into her shin, and it hits.

 _Bingo._ Honestly, if hatred was visible, the air would have been scarlet by now. I can basically see the fumes ascending from the top of her head. Something takes over me, and the feeling I'm getting currently is the same one that I get whenever a new adventure arises. _Live it up, kid._

It's like a new high for me, even as I pressure her backwards. I swing at her head, her shoulders, her chest, her legs. Each and every time that I attack, she lets out a grunt and holds her breath in, trying her hardest not get smacked. Her legs falter quite a bit, and I'm guessing that the pain from the earlier blow is starting to really screw her over.

As she falls away, I grab her by the hair and say, ''No you don't.'' She pants heavily, trying to rip my hand away from her by clawing at me. Her long fingernails dig into my arm, so deep that my skin rips and I holler in pain.

Now, I feel something grab _my_ hair, and all of a sudden I'm brought to my knees, a kick to the groin carrying me down. Over and over again, I feel like I'm going to explode down there. The pain is unreal, but I still manage a small smile.

A scream breaks out, and I hear someone calling my name, but it's so incoherent for me – like, this fight is everything that's going on in my mind right now, the only thing that I can think about.

Just as the Four girl brings her foot up again, I clutch it with my left hand and twist, cursing as she yanks her foot away and hobbles backward to gain some space. The water, I make note of, progressively increases, almost like this fight has a certain time period before we all die.

The girl growls at me, rubbing her foot aggressively. She's a ticking time bomb. Always, and forever will be. Any provocation, no matter how small or insignificant, and her temper will blow. There's a cold burning to her rage, and it's almost unnerving. _Almost._

Limping, I casually approach her, giving her no room to rest. Using minimal force, I slam my boot into her shoulder and press her body back. Lifting my other foot up, I attempt to stand on both shoulders and hold her head underwater, but she quickly realizes what my intentions are and rips a dagger from her side, flinging it up.

The dagger comes nowhere near me, but I still fall, losing my balance. The fear of getting hit by the distant weapon threw me off. She's smart, I gotta give her that. She knew she wasn't gonna hit me, but if she just managed to scare me enough, she would be able to get free.

Shaking my head, I react too late as a fist slams into the underline of my jaw, jolting my tongue up to my teeth. Blood floods my mouth automatically, though no source of pain is felt. Only after a few droplets touch the water and stain it do I feel the burning sensation.

''Almost cleaved your tongue in half,'' she chuckles, swaying her head from side-to-side. Just as I'm able to answer her when the pain subsides, she grabs me by my neck and forces my head underwater. I have no time to take in air, and bubbles float from my gaped mouth. Instincts flood in, and just as she did to me, I kick her in her private area.

Honestly, I wasn't expecting a reaction, but she gets off of me immediately. Screaming in pain, she pants, crawling away and flicking me off at the same time. ''That hurt like a bitch!'' she complains.

''Didn't think it would...'' I admit. ''But now you know how I feel, right?''

''Fuck you, asshole, that was my pelvic region! That shit's sensitive!''

Something rushes into me, and the Four boy goes flipping over my head and into the water. I stare up above me, noticing Beckett pushing him away. He rips out the machete in fear, trying to intimidate the both of them away. The Four girl smirks as a shadow arises behind us, and I somehow manage to bring my weapon up to block the sharp sword from entering my throat.

Emil and I stare at each other, both of our gazes cold. His eyes quiver subtly, and I force my weapon up, ripping his free from his hands. ''Back away,'' I order, hesitantly swinging it at him.

Ear-pitching screams emit from behind me, and I study Beckett trying to fight with the Four guy. Beckett's overcome by fear, and his swinging is rapid, wild, and uncoordinated. If he's not careful, he's honestly going to end up stabbing himself.

''You've never fought someone with a weapon before, have you?'' the girl asks. ''You're struggling. You're gonna fuck up and _die_.''

''Beckett!'' I shout, catching his attention. ''Fall back!'' He does just as I say, and he narrowly avoids the pointy blade of the guy's staff-like thingy.

''ZEPPELIN, ATTACK!'' The female looks at her District Partner, almost disgusted by the shaking of his head. ''You dare defy me?''

''I don't want to do this anymore. It's just wrong.'' With that, he tucks his weapon away from harm's reach.

Her eyes lower, her gaze cold as hell. With a put-upon sigh, she nods her head. ''Okay.'' She rubs the back of her neck, disappointed and aggravated. ''Leave.''

 _Wait, wasn't there another one?_ I suddenly snap back into reality, after so much fighting. ''Hold on!'' the words come out of my mouth in no time, and, hovering over Bree, I spot the boy from Two levitating his weapon in the air, right over her heart.

''DON'T YOU DARE!'' I scream, running forward. He turns around and looks at me, and I see tears in his eyes. They're wobbly and scared and regretful. The weapon slips from his hands, and I barely manage to catch it by the handle, jumping up and landing on top of Bree. Glaring up at him, I'm about to curse him out until a low-pitched cry escapes someone's mouth, and then a cannon goes off.

 _Boom!_

Staring back, my hands shaking, I pray to God that it's not Beckett, even after what he's done. The Four girl rips her spear out of Beckett's body, but not only his. Beckett and Zeppelin were connected together for a short period of time, both of them being penetrated by her spear. I only know that he's still alive when his arm shakes and a piece of Zeppelin's torn insides fly out and into the water, a puncture in the area where his heart is supposed to be located.

The Two boy – Atlas – holds his hands over his head in disbelief, finding the sights in front of him unimaginable. He makes no noise, but his hands twitch, and with sudden force, he pries his machete away from my hands, shoves it into the pocket-area of his pants, and takes off running in the opposite direction of his dead partner.

''CLARICE, NO!'' he screams, fading away into the background. Beckett tries crawling, but Clarice, once again, stabs the spear right in between his shoulder blades, paralyzing him. He's not dead because Zeppelin was taller than him, protecting him by accident, and his heart didn't get stabbed – but it was awfully close. That, for certain, is where I break. I never thought I'd reach a point in my life where I've been so blinded by a five-course serving of rage, but today is the day.

Tears well up in the corner of my eyes, and as I bite at my lip, everything tastes bitter, yet surprisingly satisfying. I stand up, reach out, and with a burst of speed, I rush at her and slam my fist into her jaw. She falls to the ground with a wail of pain as I try to shake the aching after taste of the attack off of my hand.

Much like a drug, I take another hit, knowing that I'll only be drawn more and more into the high. I tackle her, rushing her into the water and using my knees to hold down her shoulders so that she won't be able to fight back – and even if they weren't pressed together, I doubt that she'd get away because of how fast my fists are continuing to hit her face.

No guilt. No remorse. No nothing. I continue, even as my hands grow numb and I can't feel them anymore. What I can feel is her struggling, though, kicking underneath me, trying her hardest to break free, but I won't stop. So many years of holding back all the shit that everyone's been wanting to let out – that everyone didn't have the balls to do – that everyone was too fatigue to do.

Lowkey, I feel guilt surfacing to my throat, but I swallow it down and sink it deep into my mind, adding a spice that completes the vexed dish that I'm serving. I know that I should stop this, that I should just let her go and avoid the murderous consequences, but I just don't have it in me to stop.

My vision goes blurry, but before my body starts to feel as if it can't move anymore, I lunge my hand outwards for her golden spear. It shimmers in the daylight, and as I hover it over her head, the water grows more and more. Now, it's up to her ears and at the corner of her lips. Tears start streaming from her eyes, and I feel utterly disgusted.

''First you kill your own District Partner, and now my ally's gonna die because of _you,_ '' I state. ''Just how many?''

It's _like_ she enjoys this, but she doesn't. I know that she doesn't. I remember what she was like in the beginning, and she's quite different now: less loud, a better temper, more calm, to name a few traits of hers that have changed. These Games have hurt her in some type of way – a way that she wishes they hadn't. ''It'll be four after his cannon sounds. And you?''

''You'll be my first,'' I frown, anger searing through me.

''You know you won't do it,'' she taunts. ''Just put the weapon down and let me go. Besides, you don't even know what you really wanna do to me. I do, though. Let me go, the Gamemakers have their death – and oncoming death. We can just go on and move our separate ways.''

I cast my eyes to the wound in her abdomen. ''Who were they?''

''Who were what?'' she asks, acting dumb.

''Who'd you kill?!'' I grit.

''If you must know,'' she starts, ''the first person I killed was Atlas' District Partner, Sigrid. Oh, how annoying she was. Then it was a fellow Career ally, Avery, and then my own District Partner in Zeppelin; and currently, my latest victim is your ally over there.''

''So everyone that you've murdered so far has been an ally?'' I ask, unable to comprehend her answer. She nods, like she's proud or something. ''Are you kidding me? You're lower than the dirt beneath the earth.''

''Say what you want about me,'' she laughs, the water foaming in her mouth as spit drifts away. ''But I regret it all. Everything that I've done was a mistake. My goal – what I wanted so dearly – wasn't worth this. I should've just told them upfront...''

''Save it. You're not getting any pity from me,'' I whisper, not trying to assuage the imminent outcome of this battle. ''And, for your reference, I do know what I want to do with you: I don't want to kill you, I wanna put you in a pit and add the shovels of dirt slowly until your Goddamn mouth is full of muck. I wanna hear your cries as your casket gets lowered into your grave, the sounds being thicker than a hail storm. I don't care if you're sorry now, or if you're ashamed of what you've done, I don't wanna hear it. You Volunteered for this – _you_ should have made the smarter decision when you had the chance.''

''Never said I was sorry,'' she shakes her head, gulping for air as the water begins to flood her mouth. ''I'm just ashamed of myself – falling to you, failing to commit to what I've been wanting to do for as long as I can remember, and defying my own motto by not going after what I wanted in the first place. That's upsetting.''

''Bye.'' As I decline my hand with rapid speed, she does her best to get out her final words.

''MILAH, TELL THEM EVERYTHING! I'M SO SORRY THAT I FAILED, I SHOULD HAVE NEVER DONE THIS. I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I ALWAYS LOVED YOU! YOU WERE THERE FOR ME WHEN NO-ONE ELSE WAS! I KNOW THAT YOU'RE WATCHING THIS NOW, AND I WANT YOU TO MOVE ON AND DO SO MUCH WITH YOUR LIFE! YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL, STRONG, FAITHFUL, AND INDEPENDENT! PLEASE, NEVER FORGET—''

Her own spear, held in my hands, slices across her throat in a soft manner, drawing a wide-open smile across her neck. It gapes open, the blood pouring out and the gurgling sounds from her mouth growing louder. Her legs thrash in the water for multiple seconds before she stops and dies down, her cannon resonating off of the walls.

Getting up and off of her, my lower body covered in blood, I turn my attention back to Bree, ignoring the fact that Clarice's head is now submerged underwater. Helping her sit up, I push her up against a house and turn my gaze back to Beckett.

''Hey...'' he twitches on the ground, breathing heavily. ''I was beginning to think that she overpowered you and killed you... G-Glad it w-was y-you who came out on top...''

''I should hate you, you know?'' I wipe away the tears. ''After what you did to Poet... But, you're still an ally, and I forgive you.''

''You d-don't k-k-know how happy t-that... m-m-makes me...'' he tries, his expressions contorting from pain to fear and back to pain. ''But... I don't have much time left, and neither do you i-if yo-you don't l-leave...''

''What?'' I ask. ''N-No, you can still live. It's just a wound, surely a sponsor gift will be sent or something. O-Or we can just patch it up and stop the bleeding!''

''T-There's no need for that,'' he says, averting his eyes to the side, trying to get me to follow along. ''L-Look what he's got in his hand... I-It's tic-ticking... I s-swear that thing's gonna explode, and y-you've got to r-run a-away with B-Bree... You can't carry the b-both of us, so leave.''

''I can—''

''K-KASTER, G-G-GO!'' he screams, just as I observe the flying object soar away from the Three boy. His eyes grow with excitement as the item ticks at my feet, but he looks at me as if he's apologizing silently. The beeping grows faster and, looking back at Beckett, I feel his arm push at my leg and force me forward, away from him. _He used the rest of his strength to help you live._

Grabbing Bree and hoisting her up, I race to the flimsy shelter behind a building. If it wasn't for these sturdy and dense walls, I'm sure that the ongoing explosion would have had a chance to discharge my insides before the acrid smoke had a chance to choke me and Bree.

I hold a fetal position away from the explosion, hearing ignition of a fiery ball of yellow flames, billowing outward, escaping from the little object and engulfing everything in its way. Briefly, I hear Beckett's screams, but they're soon overshadowed by the sound of a cannon.

The noise reverberates over my grueling crying as efficiently as a thunder clap, and by now, I'm almost completely broken. Staring down at Bree, my tears dripping onto her head, I notice her eyes slowly closing.

 _Oh, shit!_ No! ''NO. NO, NO!'' I almost scream, realizing that her time might be up. Poet told me that people wouldn't survive any longer than a few days, and it's been about two-to-three. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Just as her eyes slip shut and her mouth closes, I put my fingers on her carotid pulse, feeling no beating at all.

 _Chime!_

Something small drifts downward, and attached to it is a note, reading:

 _''Hey, this is for Bree. There's an antidote attached to the note, and this took me forever to get; you won't believe the troubles I had to go through to find someone willing enough to pay for this. Anyway, just pop a pill into her mouth, and if she won't swallow that, inject the small needle into one of her veins. In a few hours, she'll wake up. Sorry for the series of events that just occurred, but... keep your head up, kid. Oh, and take care of her, she's your last ally remaining. I have faith in you two.''_

 _''- Dalan.''_

Wasting no time, I quickly rip open the pill package, use my hands to manually open her airway, and toss it in there. I feel tired as heck, though, so I'm unable to stay awake for whatever happens next.

But before I black out, I see the Three boy walking away, waving his hand in the air. It's not a 'Sorry' wave, but a 'See you later' wave. Maybe I actually will see him again. After all, we both killed one of each other's allies...

...And he's calling my name.

* * *

 **Cathodette Lyte, District Three**

* * *

You know what almost makes me laugh? It's the fact that, what, like, seven cannons have boomed today, and none of them have been mine.

I'm still alive, for now, yet seven other tributes have lost their lives – preferably quickly, too... Maybe Ceres is one of the fallen. Honestly, it wouldn't hurt me if she was. She deserves it, for not betraying only me, but Clarence as well.

Or maybe she's still alive, searching for another temporary alliance with some other unfortunate tribute. But who's stupid enough to ally this late in the Games, especially since it's usually right around this time that alliances get destroyed and burned.

I lie on the ground, my eyes closed in a grimace. Barely managing to hold my head up, I take note of my left hand, skin pale and clammy. I try to rub the dry blood away, but it's too stained to remove now – and who cares? This blood's been pooling my body for hours now. When Adonis said a slow death, I didn't think he meant _this_ slow.

He knew exactly what he was doing when he struck my pecks. I don't know what he hit, but it was definitely something important. Maybe an artery was ruptured or something. After all, blood keeps on escaping me, and it just keeps expanding to new heights – but if he hit an artery, I would be dead by now. Smart boy, he is. Whatever he did, he kept his words. This is the definition of slow.

As I try to move again, a painful scream leaves my throat. But this torturous noise is different from the rest. It has a special quality of a person consumed entirely by pain, and it knows no end or limit. ...She should have been by my side and kept the promises that she created. We could have been something different, an alliance that could've eliminated the other tributes and made it to the final five, maybe – and instead of proving the doubters wrong, she threw us into their words and strengthened their opinions.

I wonder how many people bet on me and are now losing tons of money? Who loves me in the Capitol? Who cares about me and will actually miss me in this Arena? Will anyone even remember my face, or will they know me as that quiet girl who gave everyone mean looks?

It doesn't even matter anymore. Struggling, I try to pick myself up, biting my lip in anxiety. I don't know if it's just my vision or not, but the forest has become tannin-brown – or maybe it's because of the time change. The grass feels crispy underneath my entire body, and when I look up, the trees look like skyscrapers to me.

My stomach feels empty and growls, but I pay no attention to it. Taking my mind off of it, I gaze at my surroundings. The sun's setting, and only a few swallows of the sky are left. Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind if I was swallowed as well. I'm just beginning to notice, for the first time, that this is my hallelujah moment; it's an epiphany so profound that I know it'll never be bettered. I can lie here for a thousand years until death consumes me.

To me, it's as if someone's lowering the volume of my environment. The swaying wind is growing quieter, the scurrying and footfalls across the trees soon mute themselves, and even the sound of leaves flying don't reach my ears. Everything rings out with a crystal and piercing clarity, almost as sharp as the cuts in my chest.

Black fills the edges of my vision, and the only thing that I can hear now is my own heartbeat. My breath hitches in rapid, shallow gasps. Seconds pass as I just chill here, realizing that my time's come. This is nothing like the pain I've felt before – this is like having a gun held to my head and the person holding it is telling me not to let my heart beat anymore.

In life, I gave less of myself than I could have. Everything that's happened to me was for a reason, perhaps. Father, Mother, the baby, killing it, being tortured and fondled whenever possible. It's been a struggling battle for years now, but I can't complain.

No more pain, no more crying, no more agony, no more nothing. I'll be able to leave all that crap behind. Closing my eyes, a smile crosses my lips as I can finally die happy now. My fragile, human heart beats one last time, and the last thing I remember before my escape is the involuntary sob that escapes me. Whatever way you look at it, I'm still a winner.

Gladly, though, an almighty hand touches my heart, and this girl is gone.

* * *

 **13th - Avery Billings, District Ten**

 **12th - Zeppelin Cross, District Four**

 **11th - Clarice Auden, District Four**

 **10th - Beckett Leighton, District Five**

 **9th - Cathodette Lyte, District Three**

* * *

 **Caleb, ahhhh, man. Avery was a monster. Kid was ruthless, bloodthirsty, awkward, all types of things you wanna avoid in a person. First tribute I received for this story, and one of the few good psychopaths, in my opinion. I decided to only choose one, and Avery just had that special spot. He was just something else. Kid had problems in the head, everything with death, all that was his drug. I loved writing for him, hopefully you could tell. I didn't initially plan to kill him this early. I think I told you the plans already of him killing like, two Careers and going to the top 6, and I swear I had my mind set on things. Honestly, I wasn't expecting to change things up when writing this story - I had everything planned and I knew it, but sorry about this. Hey, you got a new placement, though, and that's good. I decided to kill him off here because I knew conflict was gonna stir between him and the Careers. After rereading Zeppelin's form and starting his fight with Clarice, I knew there was no possible way that he would have managed to escape alive. It's unfortunate, but the kid died the way he came in. Think he's happy? R.I.P.**

 **Nate, Jesus, Zep was a great Career. Writing his development was fun. His whole edge was fun. The stony, trying-to-act hard guy who's really kind of a softy on the inside, or just the guy who didn't want to really hurt others and have them rely on him. His family relationship, his background, his partnering with Clarice, all that was amazing for me. Oh, and him and Atlas, that friendship... God, I honestly wish it could have lasted longer. The reason I chose to kill him off here was because Zep was changing. With Atlas influencing him and turning him, sorta, into more of a good guy than an anti-hero, he was becoming less useful to Clarice. They knew each other well, and he basically had control over here. And that's the thing about Clarice. She usually does what she wants, but Zep was a hazard to her. If she kept him around, he would be telling her this and that, calming her down and such, and she'd be unable to do much. Zep was fun to write while it lasted, and helping Clarice live, with that patriotism he had... Man, I tried to live it up with this tribute. Thanks for submitting, he was honestly really fun.**

 **Cloe, speaking of another fun tribute, Clarice was a female Career I hadn't seen before. She was so detailed in the personality region that it was hard to capture all of her, but I got most of what I could do. Her background was the most amazing part about her to me. Her mom abandoning her, her figuring it out with the help of Milah, her feelings, everything was just fantastic. Hands down the most fun yet challenging tribute to write for, but that's what was thrilling about her. I could explore new things and change her up a bit every now and then. Make her angry at this point, make her calm and collected at that point. I always knew she was gonna fall by pissing someone off, and Kaster so happened to be that guy. Tbh, she was like, final 8 for me, but I don't know why but I changed my mind literally while writing this chapter. I always knew Zep was gonna fall to her, but adding Beck in the mix, that just gave me an idea to set Kaster off. Sorry that I killed her, but I hope I did good enough with her. R.I.P., Clarice.**

 **Sophia, wowwwww. Beckett was just like Poet, which gave me all of the ideas that I had for him. The kid was awesome, but I'm only mad at myself that I didn't develop him all the way that I wanted to. Those little voices in his head, I wanted to make those disappear and have him conquer the Arena, in a good way, and just start feeling confident. He knew who he was and what he had to do, which is why he didn't hesitate to kill when he really needed to. He was one of my favorites, with his perfect smile and all that and the important stuff that you brought out of him. He was so simple yet so full of personality that there were endless things you could do with him. Killing him, though, that was a tough choice. I didn't know whether or not I wanted to end it right here, but this gives me an opportunity to develop three of these remaining tributes in a good way. Beckett had an impact on this story, whether some of y'all know it or not, and I hope I did him justice.**

 **Em, ahhhh. Now she's dead. No, but seriously, Cathodette went way further than I originally had her going. She was supposed to place around her predicted placement at like 18th or something, but then, after getting into the Games, other tributes just started falling and she was one of those that I wanted to keep around. Despite her death here, she's finally free. Everything about her changed peoples' opinions. I think not too many liked her at first, but then after discovering who she was, they saw her as that pity tribute. I felt bad for the girl, too, and though it could have ended much sooner, I thought dragging it out would be interesting. With Ceres and all that, oh wow, that was fun to write. Her feelings for the alliance she had, it made her feel safe, even if she didn't show it completely. She's been hurt so much that, when she came to the Capitol and made friends, things seemed to brighten up for her. Unfortunately, it came to an end rather soon, with the whole betrayal and hurt. She was used to it, but wasn't too expectant of it again. But hey, she's free now. She always wanted just that, and whatever way I, or anyone else, look at it, she's a true Victor.**

* * *

 **A/N: Ayeee, so we're done to eight tributes! Feast should be soon, though I gotta rearrange a few plans for upcoming chapters. Anyway, truth be told, I was hella unmotivated for this chapter, which is why, maybe, the first few POVs weren't too good. School started again, just when I was getting back into the writing mood, too, so yeah. And Algebra 2 is kicking my ass rn, and is honestly the only stressful thing in my life, but it's like a major component, so. Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed this chapter. As annoying and repetitive as it is, sorry for the terrible proofreading. I decided to change it up this time and try a new method, but that shit doesn't work for me at all - I thought it would be quicker, but it took a while and I had to space it out because I had plans with friends and crap to do. Well, a few questions, if y'all don't mind?**

* * *

 **Surprise deaths?**

 **Opinions on the POVs?**

 **Were you expecting this final 8?**

 **Anyone you were expecting who's survived to die this chapter?**

 **What would you guys like to see, or expect to see coming up? (This won't really change anything, but I might tweak a couple of things here and there to please y'all. But I'm mainly just curious as to what's running through your minds with this story.)**

* * *

 **Also, if it bothers anyone, sorry that Kaster's POV was so long. Really, he's been the last to receive one, and I was saving him up for this. I felt bad, though, since everyone else has been getting love, and it's been a while since we've heard from him personally. Not the standard, current, five POV chapter, but that's because it would be way too much. This is already a long chapter as it is, and I'm not down with writing more. It's a Saturday night over here and I'm trying to get this up before going out with friends, so sorry if it seems rushed. I hope, whatever time it is for you guys, that everything's going good and you're all alright. Thanks for reading, and I'll see y'all next chapter, bye! ^-^**


	20. Near

**Day Five:**

* * *

 **Emil Robins, District Three**

* * *

I've been trudging through this Arena since yesterday afternoon. By now, I'm exhausted, but the Gamemakers have kept me moving for whatever reason. Every time I tried to take a break, they lit some sort of pathway for me to follow – and, honestly, I prefer doing as they please rather than defying them.

Not sure where I am, but the area is quite bright. Water streams in the center of this large river, and across the outflow is a crystal home. It doesn't catch my attention too much, seeing as it's quite small, but the surrounding environment consists of rock walls and diamonds hanging from the ceiling's edge. There are a few of them scattered in the river, too, but that doesn't concern me.

Dragging my sword across the gravel, I draw a sad smile in the dirt. My body starts shaking, the air becoming cold all of a sudden. Chills travel all over me, and the thought of killing resurfaces my mind. Yesterday, Beckett died because of me. _I_ threw the explosive at him, _I_ burned him and caused him to yell, _I_ partially cremated him.

I'm not sure where or what he is now – probably a piece of ash being blown in the sky – but I inwardly apologize. Although... he did help me out. The Capitol knows me as the goofy, fun, idiotic kid who would do _anything_ for their amusement. And now, I think I've reached a new status level. I _killed_ , and that's what they want to see from tributes.

Just imagine how satisfied they are with me right now. They love me ten times more because of one simple life, so what's to say they wouldn't protest against the Gamemakers to keep me alive after I kill another tribute, and then another. I mean, I don't feel good ending a person's life, but I crave so much from those outside.

I tilt my head up when a shimmering ray of sunlight caresses itself over the placid river, bestowing a golden path from the shore to the end of a small tunnel. Groaning, I continue to move, sliding across the walls to hold myself up. My feet ache, so it's necessary.

The tunnel continues to grow brighter and brighter, and I'm still trying to figure out what exactly it is that I'm supposed to come in contact with; surely I should have found it by now. It's almost as if the Gamemakers read my mind, because, in a few steps, I spot exactly what they want me to see, and an optimistic smile graces my once frowning image.

In front of me is a propeller shaft, and a quite odd-looking generator attached to it. The river flows through the generator, rippling as it moves. I'm not sure where this water leads to because of the darkness right after the immovable propeller.

''I dunno if I wanna go near there.'' Slowly backing away, I plan to turn around, but then the sky softens to a blue hue and the clouds blush like a ripe mango. The air grows delicate and cool, kissing my skin with moisture. Staring up, I fall in shock when I see the kingdom above me. It's a giant city that levels up, with each home and building hanging over the other.

The city appears dark and gloomy, like a series of numerous identical buildings with gray walls. It's nothing like I've ever seen before, and behind those buildings are mountains of all sorts, stretching way beyond what I can see. There's light reaching the top, scattered all over in multiple regions, only illuminating certain parts of the area.

There are waterfalls everywhere, and they all connect to this one single river. I hear rumbling coming from the right, and a staircase forms, leading me up to the top. Looking back at the generator, I ponder to myself.

A generator, water, and a propeller. All of that together can form an electric current that would electrocute someone. But they wouldn't bring me here if they wanted me to commit suicide. And the staircase? Someone's up there, and they're trying to get me to go after them. I can even kill them from a distance if I'm lucky. That just shows how much the Capitol is enjoying this, and they want more from me.

They want death, gore, blood and more! And who better to give it to them? Me? The unlikely boy from Three who joined the group of murderers? The smart-idiot who probably isn't even ranked that high? The crafty, innovative genius with thousands of ideas surging through his mind?

 _Use your intelligence in the wrong way again. You're used to it, aren't you? You've done it before, you can do it again. Another kill, another misfortune, but who cares? They love you!_

Approaching the generator, I kneel over and read the engraved writing on it. It says:

 _To fellow discoverers, we, The Old ones, have created a general force of electricity with this newly developed device. Unfortunately, to our dismay, we have not found a great enough source to activate it due to our current location. We must travel upward, to the surface, and leave this behind. To anyone who may find this and need it, we wish you the best of luck. As advanced and highly intelligent as we are, we have failed to complete a simple task. Shame is upon us, but we'll be back for it someday. As of now, the options for this device are endless. Do to it as you please. When we return, failure will not be a part of the plan._

Staring up into the sky, I raise my thumbs up to let the Gamemakers know that I'm all in for their plan. I'm sorry for whoever is up there, but I gotta do what I gotta do... I just hope it's a guy and not a girl, because I don't know how I'd handle that.

At this point in the Games, there's no more refuge – for anyone. Only way to survive is by doing exactly what they want you to do. And I, no matter how wrong my faltering conscience tells me this is, tend to play it the way it's designed to be played.

* * *

 **Ocelot Harrien, District Twelve**

* * *

Risking a glance behind me, I make sure that the girl from Seven isn't following me anymore. Not only her, but the flow of water as well. That giant tsunami hit yesterday and forced me away from my cave of solitude.

Being alone in the Games and trying to remain low don't work out well, in the end. I'm terribly upset because the Gamemakers are forcing another tribute towards me, but why? I thought that they loved me? I've tried so hard to do everything that they wanted from me, but I should've known better.

I'm honestly starting to feel different about the Capitol and the people there. Yeah, they're amazing and all, and people are wrong to judge them, but this is plain wrong. How can they not see that? Are their hearts made of stone or something?

When you're watching the Games at home, sitting on your sofa and hoping that your favorite tribute doesn't die, you don't pay too much attention to the fact that they have feelings, too. They're more than simple betting tools for you to collect some sort of prize off of from death and survival – they're humans, just like the Capitolites and District folk.

Sighing, I lean back and reach into my bag, looking for a water bottle. I've been parched for quite some time now, only because I've been wanting to save the last bit of my resources for important situations. Unfortunately, there's only a little drip of water left in the bottle, and I swallow it down in one go.

The drink isn't enough to satisfy my throat, but I'm thankful for what I had left. There's nothing else in my bag besides one last protein bar, but I'm not really hungry at the moment – oh, and my dagger and a pair of pants, but... yeah.

Sitting down on the grass, I strain my ears as an attempt to try and listen for any oncoming things – whether that be another tribute, a mutt, or a natural disaster. The Gamemakers have played with me enough already, though, so I think I deserve a break...

But, of course, I don't get one. Footsteps bounce against the crushed leaves, and I hold my breath to suppress a gasp. I hear panting, along with a, ''What the...'' I never did so before, but now I take in the background. There used to be mountains here, but they've all eroded away and have shrunken due to the amount of water that washed over this region.

Ironically, I hear a splashing noise, and a drop of water taps itself on the top of my head. ''Oh... no!'' I say, a little too loud.

''Who's there?'' Seven asks. She begins moving again, her footfalls growing closer and closer. ''Hey, come out already. Is this the same little boy who ran away from me? Because if so, just show yourself!''

 _Never_ , I think, lunging from my position and running forward. She catches on to me and starts a pursuit. I may not be the most athletic tribute still remaining, but I'm the smartest by far – that, I know, is a fact.

Zigzagging my way across the damp field, trying to confuse her, I see water coming over the land in front of me. Skidding to a disgusting stop, I stare up in awe, mesmerized by the great flow of water hovering in the air. Turning around, I lock eyes with Seven, and she's just as shocked as I am.

Behind her, water grows tall, too, and neither of us are prepared for the drop. It's not gonna hit with the gentleness of spring rain, but with the power of a nuclear-blast shockwave. A colossal, blue-green wave, will sweep over us at over a hundred miles per hour. Rushing, racing, roaring; angry froth foaming between its lips.

As I turn, I see no escape.

 _But why?_

 _Think, Ocelot, think!_ Searching for some sort of escape route, I manage to find a little hole in the ground. It's small enough for a lanky, small guy like me to fit through – but for her, I'm not so sure. It doesn't matter, either; she's not important to me. Taking my chances, I run as fast as I can, trying to beat the tsunami.

One of my legs catch onto the hole and fall right through, followed by the rest of my body. Only my left arm remains hooked, but I quickly remove it. The Seven girl rips her axe out of her skirt and follows in my footsteps, attempting to do the exact same thing I did.

I hurl my body back, letting go of the ground above me, and I give no second thought about the drop. Regrettably, I fall, staring up in despair, hoping that she doesn't follow through. Every muscle in my body knots up when her face peaks over the hole, and she starts swinging at it with her axe, trying to widen the ditch.

Little crumbs of dirt flow past me, and progressively, everything becomes darker. Am I ever gonna reach the bottom? _Is there even a bottom?_ My feet cease to swing, and my body simply glides through the air, though I'm pointed straight. The scenery in front of me starts to blur like a poorly shot photograph, the colors swirling and blending as my head becomes tilted to the approaching light.

I must be falling from about five hundred feet in the air. Holy crap, I'm gonna die! _Snap out of it! Remember what you learned back at training and fly!_

My blood starts to boil and I can feel my head tightening, the pressure growing far more extreme than I expected. Trying to move my body to my advantage, I twist and turn until I'm in a flying squirrel position, allowing my body to slow down before I can see the ground. The expected thump of the crash comes soon, and everything hurts. My vision fades for a second, but that's the least of my worries.

The sickening crunch sound that comes from the inside of my body frightens me to no end, leaving me gasping for air like a fish. Confused, I try to get up, using my arms to help start my legs, but I can't hold back a scream that accompanies a searing pain in my chest. My hands brush against broken glass, blood leaking from my wounds.

Once again, I try to move, but I'm knocked over due to the intensity of the pain. The only motion that comes from me is being able to turn around, but I wish I hadn't.

Falling now, the girl from Seven screams through her descent, and the water chases after her. She holds her hands in front of her face, but then the water reaches out and grabs her, engulfing her entirely. My body shakes with pain as the water continues to fall, and, fighting through it, I reach my arms up to cover my own face as well.

I feel the moist liquid touching my skin, the impact both deadly and comforting. Submerged underwater, I flick my eyes open, watching as the current pushes both me and Seven into some weird exit of this underground palace.

My heart begins thumping against my chest, and the only things on my mind are the Gamemakers and the Capitolites. Why are they doing this to me? I've tried to keep silent and lay low and avoid any trouble that I can, but the answer to this question is so distant. Did I do something wrong? Do they not appreciate me?

 _Am I not what they want?_

* * *

 **Blush Belfleur, District One**

* * *

Leaning forward, I dunk my hands into the stream of water before me, splashing it on my face and desperately trying to remove the painful thoughts and images from my mind.

 _He needed to go,_ I remind myself.

After the water drips from my face, I press my thumbs against my temples and rub them furiously. Everything's been... just, wrong! ''Ugh!'' I scoff, trying my hardest to avoid an incoming headache. ''Final eight, just remember that. You're _this_ close.''

 _Chime!_ Without any hesitation, I look up and catch the falling note. I was expecting something helpful – like food, sanitary water, pain killers, antibiotics, something of the sort – but all I get is a paper with writing on it. It's not from anyone I know, so maybe the Capitol sent it? It's just a prediction list of the remaining tributes, including myself.

Obviously, I'm first. Second is some girl named Sawyer, then Atlas – who's still alive, somehow, which is weird since all of his other allies are dead – and then Kaster, Emil – surprisingly – Bree, and then that little kid from Twelve, Ocelot.

Out of all the people remaining, these guys are my competition? Besides Atlas, this is nothing to be intimidated by. Closing my eyes once again, I duck my head into the water, allowing my hair to hang by my sides. When your head is underwater, all sounds are supposed to be distorted, right?

So why is it that I hear an unnatural humming, buzzing, crackling sound? Throwing my head up and pushing myself away from the water, I watch as electricity starts surging through. The liquid begins to bubble and steam rises upward.

A change in lighting catches my attention, and, as I avert my eyes above me, I notice the lights that I've taken for granted in this subterranean city start to stutter in the blackness; at first they flicker, wildly spaced apart, yet now it's as if all the lights are controlling each other and commanding one another to shut off.

As of now, there's more darkness than light, which makes me uncomfortable. I stop, staying still and listening intently. From afar, I see a tribute taking small steps up here, his – or her – head appearing just over the ending of the pit below me. They're snickering at my offended expression, and with a sigh, they shout out, ''It's unfortunate that your cannon didn't go off.''

''Why is that?'' I retort.

''Because then there would be one less competitor, duh. And I also thought that you wouldn't be expecting the electric current,'' they breathe, voice familiar. ''And what sucks even more is that I know exactly who you are.''

''And what relationship do I have with you?''

They don't answer. Instead, I just hear their footsteps smacking against the ground, and I prepare myself for an attack, ripping my dagger free and placing it in my left hand while clutching Adonis' javelin in my right.

A sword gleams in the dim light, and I see the shine just before it's able to graze my cheek. I bring up Adonis' javelin, catching the weapon within the double-sided blades, and force the tribute closer to me.

Finally seeing their face, I gasp in shock. ''Emil?''

''The one and only,'' he responds, slightly nervous. Backing away from me, he reaches into his pocket, digging for something important, I suppose. His hand fumbles, and I sneer at him, disappointed with the worst attempt at an attack that I've ever seen. ''I was hoping I didn't have to meet you again.''

''You didn't fuck up just once, but twice, you know?'' I laugh, not caring about the volume of my voice. He peers up at me, eyes shaking with fear. ''So this is how you repay me after _I_ let you survive?''

''You didn't – Adonis did.''

''Yet he's dead, and I'm alive. What's your response for that?''

''He's dead because you forgot about him and dipped,'' he says, slightly angry. ''That's my response for your backstabbing, betraying ass.''

''Oh, my God, are you dense?'' I scoff. My knees quiver abruptly, but I regain my composure. ''Everyone in this Game has to die at some point. And how do you expect me to win if he didn't meet his maker? Or are you one of those bleeding-heart assholes who believe in fairness and equality for everyone when it comes to things like this?''

''I'm nothing like that, and you'll realize that shortly,'' he concludes, throwing something up in the air.

''Bring it,'' I dare, charging at him with no cares in the world. Above me, something explodes, pushing me to the ground and forcing the air from my lungs. The explosion takes me off-guard, and I don't even register how close Emil is to my face. That sword of his brushes against the ground, slowly leveling up to my nose.

With quickness that I didn't even know I had, I roll away from the impending attack and manage to avoid his swing. With the dagger, I stab forward, forcing myself to get up and fight. Emil sucks in his stomach, but instead of pulling back, I twist the knife sideways and swipe at his abdomen, scratching a fine line of blood across his exposed flesh.

He bites back a squeal and clutches his wound, trying to maintain a good look on me and his cut at the same time. ''Sad,'' I tut, kicking at his face. He doesn't bleed from the attack, but he does sprawl on the ground in pain. His legs kick, trying to shoo me away, but I simply walk besides his shaking body.

Maybe he wasn't expecting that, judging by the look in his eyes. Swinging my dagger downwards, I aim for his heart, but the little shit decides to bring his sword up and meet my attack. Yanking my dagger away, surprising him with my move, I lift my leg up and stomp on his stomach until he groans out every fluid in his mouth.

''H-Hey, you can let go now,'' he tries, a wry smile forming on his lips. Trying to wiggle free from my grip, he holds onto my ankle, but I press down on him harder, intensifying the pain by leaning all of my weight into the attack. ''Serio—''

''Can you shut up?'' I groan. ''You ever heard of something called hygiene? Your breath smells like shit, and my nostrils are all the way up here. Sponsors don't love you enough to see you in good shape?''

Going quiet, I watch as he tries to mask his emotions with a stupid, happy grin.

''Look at you,'' I taunt, tilting my head to the side. ''You swear you're slick trying to hide your emotions. Well, guess what? You're frail – with your curly hair and light brown skin and weak frame. You think you're different from the people in your District because you've made it far and have a little bit of attention going for you? Kiss my ass, you piece of shit! Oh, wait, you probably would just for the sake of people staring at you – and whether good or bad, you don't care, do you?''

Shaking wildly, he continues to tire himself out. ''S-Stop! This isn't fun—''

''It's actually hilarious,'' I cut in, hindering him from finishing his sentence. ''Now what's gonna happen is I'm gonna kill you,'' I stop for a quick second, looking back and forth between Emil and the electrified river, ''by throwing you in the water. Now, come on.''

Grabbing him by his arm, I drag him near the water, the flourishing light shining on the both of us. As soon as we reach the edge of the gravel beneath us, Emil starts gasping for air, his eyes frantically looking for some sort of escape.

Letting out a laugh, I'm just about ready to toss him in there until he says, ''Is this what you would've done to Adonis if he was still alive?''

Gritting my teeth and clenching my fist, knuckles turning white, I try in my best efforts to remain silent. But he keeps going, bringing up Adonis multiple times. Hunching over in a form that exudes a smell of animosity that's like acid – burning and slicing – I slap Emil across the face and stare into his mysterious blue eyes.

I can feel my face turning red with suppressed rage, and when he says ''Adonis'' one more time, I swing at him and mentally snap.

''SHUT THE FUCK UP! FUCK ADONIS, FUCK YOU, FUCK EVERYTHING! WHY DO YOU KEEP BRINGING HIM UP? WERE YOU IN LOVE WITH THE GUY OR SOMETHING? EVERY SINGLE WORD THAT COMES OUT OF YOUR MOUTH IS HIS NAME!''

Smiling with bloody teeth, he spits. ''Nah, just wanted to see where your loyalty was at.''

''Loyalty?'' I huff. ''Who gave you a first-aid kit and decided not to kill you when she had the chance? But instead of _trying_ to repay the favor, you wanna give the Capitol what they want and force trouble upon yourself. Hate to break it to you, but I'm fucking done – with you, and with everyone else in here. Don't ever speak to me about loyalty!''

''But why?'' he asks another stupid question.

''Because,'' I say, stabbing my dagger into his shoulder, not needing use of Adonis' javelin anymore. Tossing it to the side, I remove the polyester rope from my skirt and wrap it around his neck, observing him tense up with fear and pain. ''You don't know what I've been through. I'm here because I was screwed over. A stupid Victor by the name of Gari ruined my life and spread rumors about me. My father lost _everything_ he worked so hard for, and now I'm a laughing stock in the District. My revenge is forthcoming, believe me. You're just someone in my way, so fuck off.''

Pulling the rope back as I press my foot against the center of his back, I bring his head up and listen to the disgusting moans and gurgles coming from his mouth. Transcending past what I need to do in order to end his life, I let one hand go and stab the dagger into his side this time, disregarding his searching fingers.

To my unfortunate surprise, though, he manages to grasp his sword with little fingertips – and I know that I should've kicked it aside, but the thought never crossed my mind. Thrusting it behind him, he pierces my already fucked up wound and gets a cry from me. My hands automatically let go of the rope and he gets free.

He bends over sharply as if I'd just punched a hole in his chest, and drops of bile spatter at his lap and the dust at his knees. The fit continues and I just hope that it tears him apart. But slowly, the torturous degrees of coughs ease in intensity and slowly, slowly pass.

The coughs keep Emil incapacitated for now – so I gotta capitalize on this opportunity; not like I couldn't on any given day. He has no choice but to fight to re-inflate his lungs while I slowly advance. Remembering that I have a vile of poison on me, I slowly take it out, making sure that he's unaware of my plans. Dropping little bits of the liquid on the tip of my dagger, I spin it in my hand and refocus my attention towards him.

''Looks like someone's throat is tightened,'' I laugh. ''Your lungs feel as elastic as old underwear? You're sagging instead of contracting for the next breathe, ha ha! Oh, I need oxygen, face ass.''

In one stride, I reach his slumped-over body, wasting no time. Angling my weapon to the top of his head, I stab forward, but it seems as though we both had the same idea. Instead of me hitting him, he spins around and punctures my breast bone with his weapon, _and_ _keeps pushing the sword inside of me._

Slowly staring down, I see the sword rotating, the sound of my muscles and nerves being gouged growing louder. Then, without warning, he completely jerks it into my back, until the shiny metal disappears inside of me and the back handle starts pushing against my broken skin. A guttural choke mixed with an agonized cry roars from my mouth.

He's not done, though. With all his force, he pushes me backward, causing me to stumble, falling into the river just as he pulls his weapon out of me. As I tumble into the water, I see a slight smirk on his face. ''I used to think you were pretty and had a slight crush on you,'' he whispers. ''But after your belittling comments and cruelty, I can say that I'm happy that I...''

His words fade away from my ears when my body touches the water. I continue to scream, convulsing and trembling like a rabid animal with thick blood flowing freely through the gaping hole in my back.

What's worse is the pain that soon shoots through me. It's much more than a slight tingle that runs underneath my skin. It's more described as if someone attached a live wire to each of my nerves, and my body convulses ten times more intense as the violent electrical current pulses through me.

The pain is only for a few short seconds before the darkness begins to cloud my vision, but I still feel my body tremble. The pain isn't there, but the movement is.

I've made a fool of myself. All my shit-talking, all my arguments, all my promises. And for what?

I only played myself, and in the end, this all ended up being for nothing. I just wanted to change what happened, because it was never supposed to end up this way. No one in the world deserves that type of cruelty, yet it somehow managed to find me. Holding my own was much more difficult than I made it look, but I couldn't do it alone. Not entirely.

Gotta give credit where it's due, though. That kid is a fucking genius.

 _I wonder if they'll remember me as much more than that girl who slept with a Victor and had a bitchy attitude._

* * *

 **Sawyer Fira, District Seven**

* * *

As the water rushes past the glass floor and crystal palace, my arms and legs violently smack into each and every object that's in the water's way. And despite the pain, I continue to move on. Pressing my legs against the wall, I push myself away from it and hold my arms against the top of my head.

Ahead of me is a pole that's sticking out right above my forehead. Reaching up, I try to grab the item, but it's to no use. A wave of water laps upwards and dunks on my head, sending me down into the ground, where my feet touch against the ground and my sandals slip off.

Looking up, the water burning my eyes, I notice just how far under the surface I am – and the fact that I can't swim isn't making this any more helpful. Doing what I did with the wall, I jump, forcing myself back up. Slapping my arms against the violent torrent, I taste the salty water entering and throwing itself down my throat.

A cannon blasts through the air, I think, but I can't really distinguish it from the sound of water slapping against _everything._ But what if a cannon did sound? Who's was it? The little boy's, maybe? No. It can't be his, because I see him right there, climbing up a ladder, though he's barely managing to hold onto it.

Trying to follow after him, I struggle to reach his fleeing body until the wave of water pushes me to his location, and my head smacks against the ladder. I see stars in the air, hovering right above me. Shaking them free and cautiously grasping the end of the ladder, I feel the scarlet blood oozing down the side of my head.

Trickling down to the water, I notice the color turning brown, each drop slowly taking my life away, leaving me pale and weak, yet defying death. Throwing my leg up and holding the ladder with one hand, I check to make sure that my axe is still tucked into my skirt. Who knows what types of surprises he could have waiting for me up ahead?

Climbing up to the top of some weird layer, I catch a glimpse of the little boy limping and struggling to get away. ''Hey!'' I shout, realizing that the water is only growing taller and taller. Throwing myself on top of the ground, I roll away from the ladder, coughing and spitting as water drips from my skin.

My eyes widen when I see the boy pressing his palms against his mangled flesh, trying to stop the blood from escaping his wounds by applying pressure on them. But, oh, there's so much blood – dark crimson, with a discreet, metallic scent. It cascades across his skin, right through his fingertips.

Getting up to my feet and running after him, I push the kid forward, helping him find his way up to the second step of constructed ladders attached to the glimmering walls. _Why are you doing this? You've always been introverted... The only time you're ever like this is when you're happy, which is extremely rare – and this isn't a situation to be happy about._

Really, I don't know why I'm helping him. One person lives, and I want it to be me, but seeing him in this state... This is all just fucked up. When we both reach the top of the second layer, I hyperventilate for air to fill my lungs again. The boy groans and turns around, stares me in the eye, and tries to scoot away from me.

''What's wrong with you?!'' I bite, growing aggravated. ''I literally just saved your life. The least you could do is say 'Thank you,' you know?''

''But why?'' he asks.

''Why what?''

''Why'd you save me? You shouldn't have... These Capitol people – these monsters – want me dead, don't you see? No matter how hard I try, they're going to end my life today, one way or another.''

My eyes widen with shock. Isn't this the same boy who spoke to the Capitolites like he was one of them? The same kid who nobody expected to make it this far? ''Because... everyone's endowed with the ability to help one another in certain situations. I wouldn't normally do something like this, but these Games change you, man.''

''T-That's what they usually do,'' he rolls his eyes, struggling to speak to me properly. ''What do you want, anyway?''

''Me? I want those Capitol bastards to burn in Hell and get a pitchfork up the ass,'' I bite down on my lips. ''They're all filthy assholes... Who could enjoy something like this? They all deserve to die. I want to send them all in here and watch them battle it out until one of them comes out alive, just so I could kill that one myself. Then we'll see who's wrong and who's right.''

I'm expecting him to say something that'll piss me off like the Capitol's right or something, and that the Districts are the ones who brought this upon themselves, but he doesn't. He simply laughs and nods his head in agreement.

''I don't care for that type of language, but I couldn't have said it better myself,'' he admits. ''Thanks for letting that out. After being in here, I now see their true colors. All their talk about loving the tributes that they're introduced to and wanting some of them to return, it's all a bunch of lies. They just want gore... I know the facts, I've always known them, but I've never managed to make sense of them until now.''

Smiling sadly, the kid lies down on the ground and sighs. ''...Tell me about yourself,'' I say, shaking in the cold. ''Like, what's your history?''

I don't expect him to answer, but he does. ''I grew up in Twelve being as dirt as poor; my parents had nothing, and neither did I – except for my brain, really. They didn't even want me, to be honest. I overheard them one day speaking about how they should have just smothered me in order to save a few coins. They always wished that they had some sort of escape, some way to grow wealthy. Either by having a family member win the Games, or just from a prayer being sent down upon them. I have no siblings, and, well, look at me, I'm pretty frail. Not much, right? But I promised myself that if I was ever Reaped, I would win the Games and that I'd have a house big enough to fit ten families. I've always wanted to be part of the Capitol and admired the people there, but now... things seem a bit different. They're disgusting freaks. What about you? What's your name?''

''Sawyer.''

''I'm Ocelot.''

''Nice to meet you, Ocelot.'' He nods his head in return. ''My mother had me at sixteen. See, she was raped by a drunk Peacekeeper, but that's a different story. I was born on the streets and knew that I had to make a life for myself, so I worked my ass off in the lumber yard back in Seven. Eventually, the money that I saved up was enough to get us a small home and some food, but it's never been anything I could do something big with. Basically, I'm the bastard child of my District. Unfortunately, I had to take out as much tesserae as possible, which ended up getting me here. But hey, as long as I'm able to keep my mother alive, I'm perfectly content with whatever ha—''

A growling, disgusting noise echoes from beneath Ocelot and I, and a large, gray, scaly fish-like creature jumps up from the water, its eyes green and vicious. Its jaw unhinges and drops to its chest, the large teeth in its mouth four times to size of my fingers. The fish tail attached to it has razor blades on it, and there's a phosphorescent antenna sticking out of the thing's head.

Ocelot's eyes grow wide with fear as the monster fish dives straight for him and takes a huge chunk out of his chest. Wrapping him around its body, the mutt uses its tail to swipe at Ocelot's back and drag him backward, tossing itself into the water. Jumping forward and leaning on the edge of the layer, I watch as Ocelot screams for help, his horrified voice rasping with intensity.

''SAWYER!'' he screams, raising his hand in the air. ''SAWYER! SAWYER... HELP ME!''

Gulping, I reach in for my axe. _Do it... Just end the kid's misery, he's begging for you to finish him off._ A second aquatic mutt takes a bite at his head, this time sinking its sharp teeth in the side of his cheek. Blood gushes with a sickening determination from his head, as if his own heart seeks to pump it from his body. His fingers try to clamp over the wound, but there's nowhere for him to touch.

The scarlet blood lashes over the water, painting the scene in which he'll be picked up dead in a few minutes if I don't stop this now... _Don't be selfish._

Hurling my axe – my one and only weapon – at the water, I watch as it catches the center of Ocelot's head. The cannon sounds automatically, but the mutts aren't done devouring his body just yet.

Falling back in anxiety, I feel myself growing numb, and my stomach suddenly inflates vomit up to my throat. I'm unable to hold it back and throw up on the floor, tears streaming down my cheek.

 _Why the fuck does this shit have to happen?_

* * *

 **Bree Andersson, District Six**

* * *

Two cannons blast unexpectedly. Shaking my head, I march over towards Kaster again and place my two fingers on his pulse – even though I know that he's not dead, due to the rise and fall of his chest. Getting tired, I smack my hands on his face multiple times until he shoots up.

''Finally!'' I smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.

''What happened while I was out?'' he asks, but I completely avoid his question.

''Nah, see... I have a couple of questions I have to ask.'' He looks up at me, quite surprised, and tries to reach out and grab my hand but I stop him. ''Ah! I'm still mad at you.''

''Mad at me? Why?''

''Because in my little trip, you, Poet, and Beck all left me while some stupid natural disaster chased after me,'' I sigh, scratching the back of my head. ''Speaking of Poet and Beck, where are the two?''

Kaster's face contorts from surprise to sadness in a mere instant. Raising an eyebrow, I ask, ''What's wrong?''

''Poet's dead, Bree,'' Kaster replies sullenly. Taken aback, I feel my stomach drop. This is a joke, right? This has to be a joke. I look at him with furrowed eyebrows, letting him know in silence that I don't think this is funny.

''What are you talking about?'' I scoff. ''Oh, yeah, because in the time that I was fucked up, Poet would just die, right? Because you and Beck wouldn't be there protecting him like you guys protected me? If I'm alive, why isn't he, Kaster?''

''Because Beckett killed him!'' Kaster shouts, tears brimming at the edges of his eyes. He doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's lying – I'm still not believing this crap. ''They were fighting, because those stupid, stupid, _stupid_ Gamemakers wanted a show!''

''What are you saying?''

''I'm saying that Beckett stabbed a machete in Poet's gut, and now Poet's no longer with us! Both of them—''

''Are you fucking kidding me? Kaster, shut the fuck up!'' I'm beginning to grow tired of this. ''If what you're saying is true, then Beckett's run off? That fake son-of-a-bi—''

''No, he's dead, too,'' Kaster stops me in my tracks. ''We were fighting the Careers, and, like, eight people died yesterday. Emil killed Beckett, and District Four was eliminated as well – I killed Clarice trying to protect you guys, but—''

''But what?''

''But I felt some type of way when fighting her – like, it was exhilarating. The adrenaline rushed into me, and it was like everything else didn't matter. If I was focusing on someone other than myself, Beckett would have still been alive.''

''And I would have ripped his throat apart. That coward!'' I scream, feeling my veins pop against my skin. Everything that he's saying makes sense, but I refuse to believe it. I... I... ''Fuck!''

Looking around, I recognize this certain city-area. We were here back when we ran into the giant. ''How many people are left?''

''Depends,'' he pauses. ''How many cannons sounded today?''

''Two.''

''Then we're in the final six,'' he gulps, his face entirely serious. My eyes widen. Final six? How did I make it this far being sedated for three days?

''Why am I alive?'' I tighten my fists. ''Did you save me?''

Our eyes meet, and he just stares, which basically answers my question. ''Out of all the fucking people, Kaster! Why not Poet? You couldn't have done that?''

''No, Bree! They separated us, and it was either I killed you, or either Poet and Beck killed one another. They had an electric forcefield blocking us, and because I refused to kill you, they sent out a mutt. The fuck type of person do you take me for? After all the bonds we created, did you really expect me to be able to lay a hand on an ally? Bree, I _couldn't_ do it!''

His voice cracks, causing me to feel like I've said enough. Turning on my heel, I try to walk away, but Kaster grabs my wrist. ''Let. Go.''

''Where are you going?''

''The Cornucopia,'' I declare, yanking my arm free.

''What? Why?''

''You said that we're in the final six, so obviously that means that the Feast will begin shortly, right? If everything you've said is true, it's most likely that the Games will end tomorrow. I don't know about you, but I plan on going there before everyone else realizes what's about to happen and grab my equipment.''

''Don't! What if you run into another tribute? Or because of your inactivity, the Gamemakers send multiple mutts after you? Don't just storm off like that. You're too headstrong for your own good!''

''Me? Too headstrong? Kaster, your selfish ass lost sight of what was important and let two of our allies die! You could've just killed me and preserved two lives for the time being, but instead, you let me live, and because of that, our allies perished. How could you?''

''I... I saved you!''

''But at what expense?'' I say, finalizing our conversation. Without another word, I clasp my hand over Kaster's mouth and look him in the eyes. ''This is for the better.''

Kissing him on the cheek, I push him backwards and step on his ankle, making sure I don't put too much weight on the attack. His haunting scream makes me wince, and the tears start flowing out now. Sprinting away, I make sure that he isn't following me.

''Bree..!'' his voice is distant now.

Shaking my head, I wipe the tears away furiously. _This is what needs to be done,_ I remind myself. _It shouldn't come down between him and I. That would destroy everything we've fought for, destroy everything our alliance accomplished. That would defy what Poet wanted for us._

 _I'm so sorry, Kaster._

''Thank you, for everything.''

* * *

 **8th - Blush Belfleur, District One**

 **7th - Ocelot Harrien, District Twelve**

* * *

 **Nellie, ahh. So, Blush was an interesting character. Absolutely loved writing for her because of how fun she was. She was a bitch, she was a traitor, and she was just a girl who would do anything to erase the name that was given to her. It's unfortunate because while writing this chapter, I realized how deserving she was to win. But then again, everyone in my final eight is deserving to win, which is why I chose these specific tributes. I just couldn't have imagined what I would've written for her after her victory. Yeah, she'd probably get back at Gari, but then their relationship would just rejuvenate and they would go back to being a couple. Probably turn out to be the power couple of Panem, but yeah. She was just something fun, and I could never get enough of her. The things I wrote for her were just things that I could easily imagine a girl in real life, who was exactly like Blush, doing. Despite people loving or hating her, she was interesting, y'all gotta admit. Didn't see her as an antagonist... but more of a girl with something to prove.  
**

 **Timmy, holy crap, Ocelot was the BEST! I loved everything about this kid, and when I first got his submission form, I automatically knew what I wanted from him. Surprisingly, he made it further than I had him going. He was supposed to be around thirteenth and twelfth, you know, the halfway area, but I just started feeling for the kid. His development came early, but I didn't go too deep into it until this chapter, where he realized that he hated the Capitol for what they've done. After being a proper lad and all that, it was unfortunate to write him realizing that so much was wrong in Panem, and that the Capitol people weren't as right as he thought they were. I didn't want to kill the kid too painfully and draw out his death, so I had Sawyer kill him. Granted, it came with a sacrifice, but it was better than being shredded apart. Ocelot was so deserving, but like I said above, everyone in this remaining group of tributes are deserving. I'm sorry for killing him, but I hope you know that he was one of my favorite tributes in this story, and I loved writing for him while I could. R.I.P., kid.**

* * *

 **A/N: Ayee! So yeah, I'm kinda pissed with this chapter because after Blush's POV, everything became rushed. I think you guys can tell, because Ocelot's death was honestly the sloppiest death I've ever written in this story. And for real, that shit had me upset asf, but I wasn't** **gonna go back and change it because life and stuff. There was much more that I wanted so desperately to add but just forgot because of how rushed this was. Even the emotions, I swear to God, those were terrible, too. I promise, though, next chapter will be filled with emotions. Like, they were just so minimal here, but I'll pick that up. For sure. Anyway, not much else to say besides apologies for what was wrong with this chapter, but here are a few questions if y'all don't mind.**

* * *

 **Tbh, I have no questions. Just lemme know what y'all thought of the POVs and chapters, if you'd like.  
**

* * *

 **Anyway, yeah, that's all. I'll see you guys next chapter, which'll be the Feast, and, I hope, will be one of the best chapters in this story. I won't rush it like I did here, but instead will take my time and write when I'm motivated so that the chapter will be golden instead of terrible to the point where I dislike it. Also, thank you all for over 200 reviews. Really appreciate every single one of them. Even if you're a reader who only reviewed the first chapter, or are popping in every once in a while, doesn't matter; I love reading all of them, and it's generous of y'all to take the time out of your days to write a little comment on the story's progress. Thanks for reading, and I hope y'all have a wonderful time doing whatever you're doing wherever you are. See y'all next chapter, bye! ^-^**


	21. Convuloted

**Day Six, The Feast:**

* * *

 **Ceres Morissey, District Eleven**

* * *

I am so, _so_ tried... My survival comes as a shock even to me, but I don't feel like I can keep up with this anymore. Being in this Arena – filled with disgusting, lurking mutations and murderous tributes – has thrown me off the edge.

Every time I close my eyes, the only things I see are the faces of those who I've had a hand in killing, and those who remain that I've yet to kill. _You now realize that what you've been doing has been wrong? Your destructible nature has shown you what it's like. Now, imagine if you were one of those tributes. How would you feel?_

 _...But I am one of those tributes._

Scratching at my head angrily, I pull my hair until strips of it detach from my scalp, the burning sensation causing a slight sting to radiate from the top of my head.

Staring up, I take note of the dark forest. I've been sitting here for a few days, but nothing's been sent my way. Are they bored of me? Have they forgotten about the girl who fucked over her two allies and killed a girl? _They couldn't, could they?_ Or maybe that's a good thing, because then they'd focus on pushing all of the other remaining tributes together.

 _Or maybe that's bad because they want to finish you off right here, right now. Just like that... Simple._

''No..!'' I grit, tears welling up in my eyes, turning my vision all hazy and crap. The decaying air and stifling atmosphere provides the worst type of abode for people like me – who don't worship the darkness rather than light. I can barely see a damn thing, and what's worse is that constantly – and I mean _constantly_ – a couple of dense shadows pass by.

The primordial forest holds, what looks like, century-old trees with sprawled limbs that gather the darkness, blotting out the moonlight and any source of shimmering stars for me to view. This forest has grown more disgusting ever since I first visited; now, underneath the newly-formed moss, lethal larkspur peppers the mulchy floor. A pungent tang oozes from legit every sentient being in this crappy forest.

A bewailing sound ghosts through the trees, followed by footsteps stomping against the twigs and leaves. _Tribute, or mutt?_ Hunter or prey, either way, only the forest knows – unless you count the viewers.

 _But what if that was the hunter, and you are the prey? Get up, and run! There's no time to be wasted, Ceres!_ my mind yells at me, but that does nothing more than make me shake.

''Ugh!'' I shout, standing up and slapping my hands against the ground, attracting all of the dirty, disgusting moss onto my fingers. ''What the fuck is wrong with you shitty people?! Send me a _sign_ or something, give me a fucking clue as to what you want me to do! I don't understand your little games! You keep trying to throw me off with the sounds of things coming and going, but nothing's attacked. _What do you want?!_ ''

A thought crosses the path of my mind, and I think about all sorts of ways I can manipulate one of those horny, sadistic bastards into sending me _something_ – no matter how costly the price, or how small the sponsor, I'll take it.

Slowly reaching down to grab the end of my top, I swiftly pull it up until it's right at the base of breasts, but then I stop. I can honestly _feel_ the gazes of my audience just glued to the screen, growing disappointed with every passing second that I hesitate to reveal my body.

...But, my engagement ring stops me. Letting go of my shirt, I fall back down to my knees and realize how stupid I'm being. Seriously? Throwing yourself to the Capitol and offering your body up to them? _What are you, some kind of prostitute? Some play-toy for these guys to smile at? No, you're much more than that._

Earlier in the Games, I wouldn't let a doubt cross my mind about throwing myself at them – despite how much I _hate_ doing what they please. But I remember Oatis – and I remember Mom, with her nurturing personality; I remember Dad, someone who, no matter in what situation, made you feel like you were part of the family; I remember Aster, who's now married to Sylvia and is expecting a baby and there's a possibility _that I'll never meet it_ ; I remember Poppy, the happiest little baby sister anyone could possibly ask for; and I remember Elissa, the kind and selfless girl that I could call my best friend.

They've seen what I've done, they've seen me at my worst, but they know who I am now. I'm not the same girl I was before, and, honestly, I don't think I can ever go back to being who I once was – back to being the girl that Oatis fell in love with before he was... _murdered._ Looking at my token brings me back to the times where we started dating, and to that one beautiful day, on my sixteenth birthday, that he proposed to me; it was the happiest moment of my life, and now I'm at the saddest moment in my life.

But, of course, all happy things must have a sad ending, correct? The Capitol, and their stupid, stupid, stupid Peacekeepers just _had_ to shoot him in the head. And for what? He stole morphling to help ease his little sister's pain, because she was dying of a brain tumor – and now, look at me. The same thing that happened to him is basically happening to me. We're both just pawns – _were_ , in his case. Fuck..!

It would be so much easier to just let go and have them send whatever remaining mutts they have in their arsenal after me. Eat me alive, swallow me hole, I don't care anymore. They can take my life away from me all they want, but they can't take away my memories. I hope that one day they all burn to the ground – all the Gamemakers, all the Peacekeepers, all the idiotic Capitolites; everyone in that cursed city.

Suddenly, the Capitol Anthem starts to play, sending shivers down my spine. It takes more than the usual amount of time to show the face of the first tribute – Blush Belfluer of District One. Swallowing my spit, I nod my head in appreciation that another true competitor is out of the way. _She played a role in killing Cathodette, didn't she?_ Yeah, she did.

Next is Ocelot, the little boy from Twelve. The only surprise for me is that he made it this far. How? Why? It's giving me a headache just thinking about this child – I just hope that his death wasn't too gruesome, but really, why should I care about him?

 _Why should you care about anyone at this point, other than yourself? You've already changed, you've already murdered, you've already lost._

And my conscience is right – I shouldn't care. Don't care what I say; don't care what I feel. Everything is moving at a fast pace, and before you know it—

 _''Wakey, wakey, tributes! I hope the Anthem didn't ruin your sleep, but then again, I do. Anyway, it's that time of the year again. You all know exactly what I'm talking about. Since your locations won't be disclosed, we're giving you three hours to reach the Cornucopia – if you don't make it there in time, well... you know what'll happen to you. Anyway, items that you desperately need will be there, and, who knows, it might increase your chances of victory. Don't take too long, now. Oh, and I really suggest going. Good luck, because you're gonna need it. And, just in case you slow ones don't get it, today's the Feast!''_

It's as if these ignorant Capitolites read my mind completely. I refuse to look up into the sky, refuse to open up my eyes, so that they won't see the tears in them. I'm _determined_. Everything wrong that I've done is in the past now – I can let all of that go, I can repent for my sins once I get out of here, but most of all, I can be free to get my revenge.

Even as my lips tremble, heaving with emotion, unwilling to break down, I clench my shaking fists in a desperate battle against grief. A lone tear traces down my cheek but I swallow, resisting to keep the others at bay.

 _I can win... There'll be a weapon for me in that bag, there'll be some food, and maybe even some ointment. Plus, I'm the closest to the Cornucopia. It's only about two-thirds of a mile away, so I can just hide in there and watch the rest battle to the death, patch up my wounds, and when it's all said and done, I can hop out and kill the last tribute._

Win... I can win.

* * *

 **Sawyer Fira, District Seven**

* * *

The starry night sky above me looks so much better than some cheap software imitation – it's almost hard to believe that I'm in an Arena. It's just... the lighter patches, the clusters of faint and bold light, the constellations altered according to the time of year... _It reminds you of Seven. Of home._

Yeah, it does. Kneeling down, I scope out the Cornucopia, wondering what a few minutes of patience would cause for me in this untold ream of time. No one's around, as far as I can tell. But who really knows? The inside of the Cornucopia is extremely dark due to the time of day, and even behind it, shadows mix together, which doesn't make this situation any better.

 _...Risk it. You have to, if you want to live. Take the chance of going out there and grabbing your equipment before the tributes who aren't here yet arrive. One might sneak up behind you if you wait too long._

My mind is telling me yes, but my gut's telling me no. It's just the scent in the air – there's something unsettling about it. It's got a familiarity to it, but I can't place my finger on it. The scent's giving me images of the Bloodbath, of Ocelot's death...

 _Snap out of it!_

I should just let go and move on, but I can't. They're so much less than memories but so much more than dreams. Sucking in the aroma, I feel like gagging, but I keep my hold. _One..._ I count to myself, readying my legs for action. _Two..._ One more second, one more moment until I'm out in the open.

A flashback of the Bloodbath transitions across my mind, back to the time when I grabbed my equipment and stabbed Blush. _She asked for it,_ I remind myself, _and the rest of these tributes will be asking for it if they decide to attack you. Be strong, be ready, be prepared._

 _Three..!_

And with that, I take off, my feet kissing the land. Maybe I would've balked at the idea of returning to the Cornucopia, somewhere so far from where I was earlier – if the Gamemakers hadn't pushed me here, I don't know what would've happened. Maybe I would've been dissatisfied with running so far and fast, but now I relish in the prospect.

Bolting down the gravel, I tightly clutch my sweaty hands. I quicken my pace as the slapping noise of my flip-flops resonate around the vandalized structures of the Cornucopia with a clanging echo. My heart pounds against my chest, causing my throat to rasp up, and with the slight inclination of my head, I let out a scream as I bump into the boy from Two.

As I'm pushed to the ground with a sudden force, I listen to him groan as he rubs the top of his head with his free hand – and in the other... there's a machete that looks quite deadly in the midnight-silver sky. Declining his head, Atlas sends me a sorry but terrified glare, his weapon shaking in his slippery hands.

I don't say anything, I don't ask anything, I don't even move. Neither of us speak at first – and I don't wanna be the first to say anything, because if I upset him, my life could be over _right now_.

''What...'' he sighs, stopping himself from sounding weak. ''...What are you doing here? You should know better than to interfere with an event as big as this.''

 _...Hold up, what?_ Growing angry, I scoot back and shake my head. ''I obviously need supplies, if you haven't noticed yet. No weapon, no bag, no _anything!_ And interfere? I'm doing noth—''

Stopping myself for a quick second, I take in everything that's going on. _I'm gambling with my life._ I now realize just how terrified I actually am of speaking to this guy. This situation... even back in Seven, I've never faced anything similar to it. I've saved my mother and myself so many times that I can't even count it anymore, but right now...

 _Please._ My eyes scream at him to just back away, but he sends me a sad look. Shaking his head, I know that there's a problem – and it's mine. The silence is just too unfortunate for something good to happen. In the grip of silent panic, I scream as his machete swings for my neck, my wild eyes dilating.

Rolling out of the way just in time, I pick myself up and continue running back, throwing myself away from him. The sweat trickles down my cheek, but I realize that I'm not the only one crying – in the darkness, a watery streak falls down his cheeks.

This guy... he probably doesn't even want to kill me. ''Just stop, dammit!'' I shout, trying to get him to face the opposite way and let me be. ''You don't even—'' I duck, narrowly avoiding my head from being chopped off, ''—want to kill me, so why are you forcing yourself to do this?''

He doesn't answer me, which makes me grow even more impatient and tired of his lack of response. Tossing myself to the side, I rush near the Cornucopia, aiming for the District Seven bag that's laid out on a metal table plastered in the center. Unfortunately for me, he follows right after.

Grabbing the bag by the handle-strap, I quickly shred it open and dig in for whatever weapon's inside. My hand grasps a wooden handle, and the feeling of an axe makes me more confident in defending myself.

Throwing myself at him now, I swing my axe at his declining machete, metal smacking against iron. He doesn't seem to expect me to do that, judging by his expression. With my free hand, I collide my fist with his cheekbone, sending him skidding backwards.

 _There you go, girl!_

Slowly turning my gaze back to my bag, I make out a few bandage wraps and a wooden stick-like thing. _...What am I—_ Oh, I see now. A hand grips my shoulder before I can reach the extra weapon, and with momentum, Atlas stabs his machete forward, pursuing to pierce a hole in my stomach.

Reacting on instinct, I jump up – higher than I've ever jumped before – and the machete goes straight through my leg and out my calf. _Oh, my God. The pain is unbearable!_ The burning sensation sears through my leg hotter than a branding iron, my mind conceding to the torment, and I'm unable to think straight.

Without meaning to, my left hand reaches out and clutches at the wound, and I yell at Atlas to remove the stupid weapon from my body. ''GET THAT THING OUT OF ME!'' Doing as I say so, he slowly slides the weapon away, trying not to shake in fear.

Swiping with my right hand, I scowl at him. ''I HATE YOU! YOU AND YOUR STUPID DISTRICT, IT'S ALL YOUR FAULTS!'' The look on his face is one of torture, but I don't care – _I'm_ in torture. ''SCREW EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU! IF YOU GUYS HADN'T SIDED WITH THE STUPID ASS CAPITOL A CENTURY AGO, WE WOULD HAVE ALL BEEN LIVING FREE, AWAY FROM THESE RULES AND STUPID GAMES AND POVERTY AND FEAR!''

Still swinging, but wincing and crying while the extra hot white pain burns and radiates, I curse him and everyone outside of the Arena. Everything just hurts, whether I move or not, it's all the same. I'm in more pain than I could have ever imagined was possible.

''YOU'RE PROUD OF YOURSELF, HUH? YOUR DISTRICT TAKES PRIDE ON TAKING THE LIVES OF OTHER CHILDREN, AND YOU PROBABLY DO, TOO! THIS IS WHY YOU VOLUNTEERED, RIGHT? SO YOU COULD DESTROY LIVES AND CAUSE EVERYONE TO FEEL SOME TYPE OF HURT?!''

The feeling keeps increasing, small lulls giving me false hope of a quick ending – but I know more than anyone here that a leg shot isn't gonna kill me; it'll only incapacitate me and render me useless. It's as though my blood's become acidic and is intent on destroying me from the inside out. All I can do is writhe and yell at him to leave me be, but an occasional shriek escapes me and echoes off the Cornucopia walls.

 _I'll kill him,_ I tell myself, closing my eyes with the thoughts. _I'LL KILL ALL OF THEM!_ The fear's weighted on my ribs and a dull ache is in my eyes, an unwillingness for my mouth to lift past a sad expression. Doubling down on my efforts to attack, I force myself up on one leg and strike.

 _You're not allowed to be afraid. You're not allowed to show the tenseness that grows in your heart. Rise the expectations and do what you promised yourself you would – kill him!_

Exceeding past my limits, I take a hopping step towards Atlas, the weight being lifted from my shoulders. I struggle taller, my stride growing lighter, more carefree. The white light of moon streams in on us, lighting up his entire body, and the glimmer of my axe makes me feel like I can do this.

...Perhaps he'll die right now. He'll be gone before I know it, and I'll only suffer a minor wound from his ending. _Don't kid yourself. This wound is a deadly one that could ultimately decide your outcome._ I am hopeful, and I won't let _anyone_ take anything away from me. _But look at you, happy to end another person's life. You've turned into a killer._

With a heart-wrenching, guttural scream, I retaliate once more. My scream's almost like a booming bark, and it makes Atlas jump with surprise. His eyes tremble, and the look on his face makes me feel mighty powerful. My hand swiftly jolts forward, and by the time I'm done roaring, my voice is hoarse.

The axe clashes with Atlas' collarbone, the _squelching_ sound of his skin sinking and ripping making me want to fall back and pass out. His scream catches me by no surprise, but his actions do. With extreme force, he slams the end of his machete into my temple, causing my vision to blacken for a few seconds.

By the time I can properly see again, he stabs me in the neck with his machete. My mind screams out as the pain quickly engulfs my upper region, all thoughts running rampant. Weeping at my own suffering, I listen intently as his footsteps grow further away and the weapon yanks away from my skin, his yelping and shouting turning into a storm of chaos.

A sea of endless emotions fall down my face as I let the wound in my gaping neck remain uncovered, rolling in a self-loathing pain. Everything washes over me in an instance, but the thought of my mom never leaves me. _Is she watching? Is she witnessing her daughter's throat bleeding out?_

The grief surges with every exhaled breath that doesn't return. The old gravel is stained with my free-falling tears. My gaze falls rapidly, and I recognize the fact that life will continue on without me.

 _But will my mom? How will she manage? Who's going to take care of her now that I'm gone? I hope Dillon can help out, but will he? Why is life so cruel? Why was I chosen for this? Why did he kill me? Why did I accept entering this Arena? Death would have been a better option earlier... Back in the Capitol, I could've locked myself in the bathroom. A knife and water would have done the trick simply..._

But no. I promised that I would kill Atlas, and I never go back on my word. But here, it looks like I have no other option than to do just that. Look at how terribly these entertaining 'Games' change you...

My heart feels empty, like a shear nothingness. It makes me want to stop the tears that I'm urging not to form but I can't.

Not until black surrounds me entirely.

* * *

 **Atlas Aureliano, District Two**

* * *

I run, and I run, and I run, and I _run!_ Nothing's been good as of lately, and the blood dripping from my machete says it all. Reaching the table full of bags, I pay close attention to what's been taken and what hasn't.

The girl from Seven's – who's bleeding neck I can't remove from my mind – bag is somewhere near her, and the only ones that remain are District Three and Six. _Emil... He's still alive, out of everyone else. How surprising._

But if I remember correctly, aren't both tributes from Eleven still alive? Either one of them got here earlier than the other and took off, or they're both together. Either way, I shake my head and swipe at the Two bag, digging in for whatever might be contained inside of it.

 _You're making your District proud, Atlas. Keep it going._ Shaking my head, I scoff in disgust at myself. For the upcoming volunteers and other trainees back in Two, this is would be the perfect situation for them. The final five, two kills to their name, and only Outer District tributes remain. _It'll be easy, right? To win?_

My chest tightens, and a nervous feeling tickles my stomach. I absolutely... hate being in here! District loyalty is nothing to throw your life over, yet I was so blinded earlier in my life... I never understood that this wasn't what I should've focused my goals around. The example of one of Two's past Victors should have been a clear representation of why you shouldn't enter the Games.

They change you... They make you angry and sad and upset and disappointed with yourself. What sane person actually wants to kill other kids? _Certainly you, because you volunteered, remember?_

Staring up at the moon, I shake my head. There's a danger in sealing up emotions like mine – back at the Academy, they taught us that those who experience mixed emotions aren't able to heal with words or kind eyes, that it would take years of rehabilitation for them to find comfort in the world again – that there's a reason why only people they are certain of and believe won't feel mercy or hesitation or let the Arena get to them are the ones the District chooses.

 _...They were wrong for choosing you, you wimp. What's the point? Your parents sent you to practice for seven straight years. If you die now, not only will you be wasting your life, but you'll also be ending up in the same place as your sister._

''Faye...'' I whimper, and then the girl's cannon booms. Startled, I spring my eyes open just as a noise bangs.

The girl from Six, Bree, stumbles across the gravel, trying to catch herself. She attaches her hands onto the grip of the metal table and swings her bag over her shoulder. ''Oh, crap,'' she says, terrified as I stare at her, but it looks like she's worried about something else. ''Kaster... Please tell me it's not you.''

Out of nowhere, she whips her head around and out comes Emil, swinging his sword at her neck with a furious amount of strength. The sight shocks me, and my mouth gapes open. Emil? Swinging, willing to kill?

Bree tries to run backwards, but she trips over my foot as she dashes into me and collides with the ground. Slamming into the terra firma, she grunts, rubbing her scraped arms. Emil merely brushes past me, his blood-soaked sword looking awfully deadly, and before Bree can do anything, he forcefully shoves his knee into her gut and brushes his sword against her neck.

He doesn't even turn to spare a look at me, almost like I'm nonexistent. It's quite ironic that our personalities for a moment like this have changed into their opposites. With what's about to happen, I can't remove my eyes away from the struggling girl, while Emil seems to be pleased in the task of ending her life.

''H-Help..!'' she tries, reaching out, but Emil raises his sword up into the air, hovers it above her forehead, and then he tries to force it downward.

It's as if the boy from Eleven appears from thin air, because his warhammer makes a thunderous sound as it connects with Emil's back. I don't know what happens inside of his body, but multiple cracks emit from his spinal cord, and I can't help the sudden sensation of wanting to cringe from reaching my brain.

''Get away from her!'' he roars, helping her up. Before anyone can say anything else, he picks her bag up off the ground, tosses it to her, and removes a golden spear from his back – Clarice's spear... She returns his gesture with a genuinely thankful look, like they have that electricity, fitting chemistry.

 _Let the tears flow. You know you want to. In those salty trickles is what you are completely – someone who feels. You're emotional, and no matter how much you want to disagree with me, you know it's the truth._

''A-Atlas,'' Emil whispers, stretching out his back with one eye closed in pain. His eyes travel to the girl's hands as she pulls out a broadsword, the long blade shimmering with a deadly glare. ''Me and you... him and her... Two-on-two, and together, we'll easily beat them. You can take—''

''You can take me on,'' points the Eleven boy, interrupting the sentence. Emil's eyes narrow coldly, in a way that I've never seen them do before. Just what happened to this kid? ''Since this is the second time you've attempted to kill one of my allies.''

''You're forgetting that I succeeded the first time and let you two go free,'' Emil chuckles. _He killed?_ ''If it wasn't for my idleness, you two would've been engulfed in that fire, too – or have you forgotten?''

Shaking his head, the Eleven boy struggles to manage a rebuttal, so he just remains silent. ''I told you that I'd see you later, didn't I?'' Emil begins again, but before he can push it even further, I step in.

''How many did you kill, and when?'' I ask.

''Two, _so far_ ,'' he responds, not proudly but not ashamed either. ''First was his ally, the same day that Clarice, Zeppelin, and Avery died. And then I killed Blush yesterday... It... I had to do it. They wanted me to.'' Immediately, I understand exactly what he's talking about when he says 'they'. ''And you?''

''Cassia at the Bloodbath, and,'' I point over just a few feet away from me, in a dark center of the Cornucopia, ''the Seven girl just a few moments ago.''

''Well, then,'' Emil, once again, cracks his back, a pain-filled expression on his face. Re-averting his gaze back to the two tributes in front of us, he starts at Kaster. ''Try me!''

Kaster doesn't know what to do but somehow dodges the blade from slicing his chest open. _You can't just let Emil fight. You have a job to do, too._

''Kaster, be careful!'' Bree shouts. The crunch of my boots must hit her ears, because she faces me once again. Pity is written all over my face, that I already know, but it doesn't stop me from tossing my machete to my left hand and crying out.

My machete cleaves the air in half and draws closer to her neck – my attack was intent on ending it fairly quickly, but she's not going down without a fight. Without any hesitance in her hands, she brings up her broadsword and swipes at my hand, drawing a thin line of crimson blood across my knuckles.

I stare up at her, surprised, but also respectfully. _Good shot, but you could work on steadying your aim,_ I would've said a long time ago, but I can't be kind and friendly with everyone anymore. Especially not right now.

She doesn't even flinch when I grasp her neck with my free hand and squeeze as hard as I can. Her face contorts into a look of disgust as she struggles to intake oxygen, but she quickly retaliates and forces me to let go by stabbing her weapon into my elbow. With a holler, I force it away from me, but the jolt causes the sword to tear my skin open, and blood pours out of me like a river.

''You keep screaming like that,'' she taunts, drawing closer and closer, ''but it won't do a single thing, not when you're dead.''

Her confidence is so strong. So, _so_ strong. That's a good trait for anyone to have, but she'll get too carried away, and when she does...

Releasing a roar, I quickly remove a knife from my pocket area and cut her cheek. Bree lets out a moan of pain and spits at the ground, but after a few seconds, she ignores the cut completely, realizing just how small my attack was compared to hers.

She glares at me much more deviously this time and forces me to block her sword with mine, but surprisingly, she possesses much more strength than a girl like her should have – just what is her background? Why is she so noteworthy with that weapon? Using enough force to get me to stutter, she pulls her sword away, causing me to fumble forward, and with no mercy, aims to shove it inside of me.

Sucking in my stomach as hard as I can to the point where I can feel my bones popping out, I escape the sudden grasp of death. It's almost like I can feel the cold breath on my nape, but I wiggle free. The blade enters my chest, but it's not deep enough to cause any profound bleeding.

''Stronger than I expected,'' I let out, admitting words that somehow roll off my tongue.

''You'll see just how strong I actually am,'' she says, seriously and coldly. ''Try me and my ally, and we fight. That's it, because you two think you're so powerful. We'll show you what happens when you fuck with the wrong people.''

''And how do you know that you'll win?'' I propose a question.

''Because I've got black in my roots from you two pissing me the hell off!'' she grunts, digging her fingernails into my arm, clawing and scratching her nails across my skin. Her adrenaline-fueled mind is helping her out, and I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. ''Just 'cuz you're the only remaining Career left doesn't mean that I'm afraid of you. I will fuck you up on sight any day of the week.''

* * *

 **Bree Andersson, District Six**

* * *

My eyes spot the wound on Atlas' right shoulder – Sawyer didn't go out without a fight, it seems. It almost hurts me when thinking about the death of all these other tributes. I didn't know much about any of them, let alone spoke to them more than once, but they were all human. They were all people who had lives to live and things to do in the future, yet here I am, alive when I _shouldn't_ be.

Growling, I rip my sword away from Atlas' chest, but he stares at me with blank eyes, like he's exhausted. No emotion except for sorrow and grief, yet I know that the attack did barely any damage. Maybe there's a stinging pain for him, but nothing more.

 _Think back to training, Bree._ With a curt nod to myself, I whip around to clash my steel against his. I hold the blade even, a perfect, undaunted horizon; _always leveled with the nose,_ the trainers taught me. I stall Atlas' lazy strike, but I notice a wretched, stained frown split his lips.

''I hate being here just as much as you do,'' he almost laughs, but doesn't. ''Weapons don't belong in the hands of people who aren't willing to use them.''

I'm not sure whether that was a jab at me or himself, but either way, our fight continues. Stepping forward, I place my face right in front of his and slam my forehead into his nose. With a bellowing holler, Atlas lets go of his grip and caresses his bloodied nose with both hands.

Taking advantage of the current situation, I bury my sword deep into that already-messed-up collarbone. Again, he lets out an ear-shattering shriek. The guilt rises into my chest, but I can't let it blindside me. _You've gotta fight to live. That's what you've been doing your entire life._

 _Fighting to try and pursue your dreams, and fighting to learn what you missed out on in school..._

As I rip it out and swing at him once more, he removes his hands from his nose and grabs my sword by the blade's sides. Blood leaks from his palms, but he's able to remove the weapon from my person. ''Like I figured, you're way too... c-confident,'' he puffs. ''And that's what'll end you.''

I've always been overconfident, with the things that I did and the people that I've spoken to. My mind has always traveled back to how good I was at completing tasks and how I would be able to succeed. But being overconfident, I realize now, isn't going to get me anywhere. It only makes me understand that I won't be able to recognize what other people are doing – for my benefit and for their own.

That's why I'm being real with myself right now. I have a fifty percent chance of winning this; not seventy, not eighty, not ninety. Everyone remaining has an equal chance at victory, but it depends on who capitalizes on their opportunities the most.

''Why'd you even volunteer?'' I ask abruptly. Immediately, I see it. The hesitation on his face, the look of regret on his features, the disappointment in himself.

''F-For my District.'' That stupid answer makes my blood boil. _They all say that!_

''Oh, shut up!'' I groan. ''That's what every Career says, but what's the real reason? I know that you're not that dense to just throw your life away for something so stupid as wanting to make your District happy. Hasn't it hit you that if you die, you'll be more of a failure than a succession to them? They'll forget about you and move on to the next one! What type of sense does that make?! I've never understood you idiotic Careers!''

''What do you know about anything?!'' he fires right back, both of us obviously frustrated. Angling the weapon in his hands to a tight grip, he points it at me. His sarcasm takes a turn for the worse, and he's unable to control himself right now. ''Oh, because you're a Career, right? You know how we grow up, how we think, and how we live, am I correct or am I wrong? It's easy for all of you Outer District kids to judge us because we volunteer for these Games, but you don't understand that some of us regret our decisions! Some of us don't even want to be here anymore and would prefer death over ending another kid's life! You don't think that it haunts me every night knowing that I ruined a girl's life? _Two_ girls' lives, actually! I'm in _trouble_. I've been feeling troubled for multiple days now, and I just want it all to _end!_ We're not all the same, yet you guys somehow manage to mistake us all for being one...''

He breathes roughly as he hovers over my body. Gulping, I look around for his sword. It's too far away to reach for, but the knife in his hand is wide open. Now, if only I can find an entrance...

A thought reaches my mind, and I begin to feel pity for him. He's right; not all Careers are the same, and you can sense the doubt that's reflecting off of him. He's _tired_ , he's _angry_ , he's _crestfallen._

...Just like me.

* * *

 **Emil Robins, District Three**

* * *

 _Atlas is in trouble...!_

''So... how are we doing this?'' Kaster lunges his – Clarice's – spear at me, but I smack it to the side using the palm of my hand. ''Looks like their fight's almost done.''

''When have you learned to not let your own fights distract you?'' I question. ''I'm surprised that you've even been paying attention to them, let alone managing to stay toe-to-toe with me.''

''I've gotten over the adventure. It's not worth it if I allow my friends to die,'' he shakes his head. ''And it's not that hard, if I'm being honest. Bree and I have as much strength as you two. If not, then more.''

''You both sure do have a lot of faith in each other,'' I duck under another swing and dive to the ground. ''Plus, we haven't even gotten started yet. You're sorely mistaken if you think this is all that I have to offer in a fight. Atlas will knock her down in a few seconds.''

Turning his attention to his struggling ally, he smirks. ''Are you sure? I think that you're familiar with a few things that were said back when Four admitted some serious news. Didn't she kill his partner?''

My eyes widen in disbelief. _How stupid of you to forget._ ''Shut up!'' I attack, growing desperate to get him to close his mouth. _Hurry up and kill him! You have to, for your sake and for the Capitol's sake. They'll reward you greatly if you do!_ ''Don't you dare say a word! Why are you so connected with her, anyway? Why are you trying to preserve her life as long as you can?!''

''Because she's like _family_ to me.''

When he says that word – _family_ – anger boils deep in my system, as hot as lava. It churns within, hungry for destruction, and I know that it's too much for me to handle. I hate that stupid word! ''Who cares about family?!'' I scream at him, taking him by surprise and swinging with an extreme amount of fury. ''Family is nothing but a lie! The people who birthed and raised me never gave a damn about how I felt, but you can sit here with the audacity of saying that someone you've known for only a week is like family to you?! That stupid relationship that you have with her is false, don't you understand?! _Why is it that you can have people you can rely on and give your love to when I can't even get a nod of approval from my own mother? Why is it that you can have successful relationships and make everyone like you with just a simple smile plastered on your face?!_ _Why is it that you care so much about someone who'll be dead in a short matter of time?!_ ''

''You don't know anything about me,'' he disagrees. ''I don't have everything that you desire. Life for me was already hard with my parents literally arguing everyday. You don't understand how bad I craved to get away and do something else with my life and save the good memories before everything went downhill fast. Have you ever even spoken to your parents about your problems?''

''No, and I never will!'' I gasp, swinging my fist at his neck. The force of impact forces him to fall away from me and struggle for air, so I advance carefully. ''I _hate_ my family life. I hate everything! Why do you think that I did all of that stupid crap? I needed the support, I needed the help, I needed the people to appreciate me for who I was and give me the attention that my parents never did! Life was terrible back in Three, and everything that's led up to now is what made me who I am today.''

Allowing the darkness that I feel to swallow me whole, I jam my foot onto Kaster's shoulder and stomp, stomp, _stomp!_ He cries, but I bend down and smack him across the face. '' _SHUT UP!''_

Through the tremble of his lips, a small smirk appears. ''Yo, Atlas!'' _Shit!_

Just as Atlas is about to make the final blow, he stops and turns around, spotting the both of us. Quickly, I try to cuff my hand over his mouth, but he randomly swings his head back and forth. Gripping him by the shirt, I throw Kaster up and try to drag him away, but he uses the warhammer in his weak hand to crush my foot through the worn-out boots.

Screaming, I let go of him, but I soon regret it. ''You know that Clarice killed Sigrid, right?!'' When he says those words, everything starts moving slowly. Atlas drops the sword in his hand, the look on his face mixed with suspicion, disbelief, and anxiety. Six lunges herself up swiftly, removes the knife from his grip, and with a blowing force, she stabs it right through his left eye until the hilt is buried in his head.

The blood, too, pours out in slow motion. It comes out as a red fountain to spread over the already stained floor, every projection showing the struggling of Atlas' heart. He raises his already blanched hand to clutch at the knife before falling on his back, his remaining eye wide open. Before I can even reach him, though, he slumps to the ground, pulse thready and weakening.

There's no amount of horror that can prepare a person from seeing the life ebb from another – no matter how many times one has killed. The hopelessness, the tearing at the soul that's departing from the other. That's exactly what it's like when I finally reach him; one moment we're so close to eliminating these two, then the next, I'm cradling his head, trying to remove the knife from his eye socket, but the sound of his cannon blasting tells me all that I need to know.

 _He's dead._

But I'm alive... The two allies grow closer and closer to me, Kaster with two weapons in his hand, and Bree equipping her broadsword again. The look on Bree's face is one of dissatisfaction, and Kaster's face reads nothing but apologies, though they send each other unnecessary smiles – they're both on one side each, cornering me.

Reaching into my pocket area, I feel against the micro-electric balls. Using my fingers to feel and count them, I make out that I have five left. _Five. I gotta use them wisely._

Slowly inclining my body to a prepared stance, I sprint off to the side back towards the entrance of the caves that everyone ran out from. Desperately searching for one of them that's not completely destroyed and carved in, I spot one fifty feet away from me. Kaster's hot on my tail, but he has no idea what's coming to him.

Through my peripheral vision, I see Bree starting after me as well, but a mysterious figure jumps out from the Cornucopia's shadow with a sponsor bag in its hand and swings it at her head. Bree gets knocked to the floor with a sudden burst of fury, and a glint of metal is placed right on her neck.

 _I almost forgot that there were four of us remaining. Thank you, whoever you are. This just makes it easier for what I have planned._

* * *

 **Kaster Navelle, District Eleven**

* * *

Following after Emil into the cave entrance, I can't help but feel queasy in my stomach. _Something's off._ Thanks to the time of day, I can't see a damn thing in this cave! Slowly approaching the thin walls, I try to feel my way across.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up when a laugh comes from Emil like a newly sprung leak – it's timid at first, stopping and starting. He's not done yet, though. I fold my arms, eyebrows arched in suspicion, waiting. In moments, Emil's laugh becomes sinister, arching into the brilliant walls of this cave and soaking up everything around him with unrestrained gales that debilitate him to a pick-faced picture of glee.

Still, though, I can't see him, and the sound of his laughter is reverberating from wall to wall, so I can't assume his position, either. He's laughing at me. And then, a rolling sound catches my attention. It's slow and steady, but then a beeping noise begins. Through the darkness, I'm able to catch glimpse of a buzzing red light and jump out of the way as quick as I can.

There's an explosion. A fist of orange flames decide to spread quickly and set the cave ablaze, lighting up the walls with dusty smoke. Thousands of pieces of rock shower down. The noise of impact – shrill and deafening – erupts, and I don't even hear Emil's boots clanging against the ground below me.

''...I know where you are but you don't know where I am!'' he says, laughing once more.

A huge bite is taken out of cave's side, leaving an exit for escape, but fire soon starts to grow around it. I had seen the size of the thing that he threw, and it wasn't _that_ big – so why did it do so much damage?

A large object flies into my head while I'm distracted, and I can feel the blood leaking from my forehead. Staring behind me, I see the rock that was thrown, and before I can whip around, Emil tackles me to the ground with his sword tucked in his pants.

''You did this?'' I question.

''With precise calculations, yeah,'' he answers, his voice raspy.

''I don't understand... how? Why are you even doing this?''

''See, I'm a dick,'' he breathes, ''so it shouldn't be that hard to swallow. And what's not to understand? I use my knowledge to do the wrong things, it's as simple as that.'' Just staring into his eyes makes my breathing rapid and shallow. I can feel my pulse pounding in my temples, telling me that I _need_ to get him off of me.

Struggling to raise my hand up, he collides his fist with the center between my brow and my cheek. An excruciating feeling of pain runs through my face, and I feel like he shattered something.

''I don't think you understand that everyone gets dehumanized,'' he tilts his head, even as the fire grows closer to surrounding the two of us. ''These Games change _everyone_. Me, you, Atlas, and even Bree. They take normal kids and make them not care if others live or die.''

He runs a finger down his sword and unsheathes it from his pants. His face mirrors the grim expressions that I feel. Pressing his lips together, he forgets that I never give up. Forcing my hand up with all of my might, I stab him in the cheek with the spear, the blade entering deep into his flesh.

It's not enough to kill, but I manage to kick him off of me and stand up. Rushing after him as he struggles to put pressure on the wound – watching as the blood spurts through his fingertips – I shoulder tackle him until we both stagger into a wall. With force, I stab forward, but he swiftly slides to the right.

The spear gets stuck in the soon-to-be-burned wall, and I'm unable to remove it! A blow hits my head again, and there's another rock in his hand. He lunges forward and pretends to swing at my head just so I can move the way he wants me to. Predicting my movements, he sends his knee into my nose.

Sprawling backward, he grips my shirt as hard as he can and smacks me in the face once again with the rock, and a haunting yell from me lets him know that time's almost up. The blood drips from my forehead to my nose and down to my chin, my teeth bloodied as well.

Shaking him free from my body, I force Emil into the end of the spear, smacking his bruised back into the weapon. He grows angrier with every attack and smacks me upside my head. I feel dizzy with every blow that he lands on me – who knew that a kid from Three could be this strong?

Struggling to catch my breath, I leave myself wide open, and he takes advantage of this. With his sword gleaming in the fiery light, he spins around me and slices at the back of my legs, cutting deep into each one and out. I barely manage to seize myself, but standing is so difficult now!

I don't know what takes over me, but I grab Emil by his forearm, yank him towards me, swipe my leg under his, and stick my knee out, forcing his back to land ferociously on one of the hardest bones in my body. His cry gives me no pleasure, but I don't care for it. Aiming for his midsection, I heave my warhammer up into the air and slam it into his gut.

His eyes nearly pop out of his head; same goes for his tongue, except with his mouth. Everything goes soft for him, but he's not dead – not _yet._ Feeling exhausted, I fall to my knees and just _breathe_.

''You put up an amazing fight,'' I chuckle. ''It was a valiant effort, I'll give you that.''

''I-It's n-n-not over yet...'' he trails off.

''It'll be over soon, though,'' I deadpan, wiping my sweaty hand across my face. ''I was never expecting something like this to come out of yo—''

Emil, using his last bit of strength, lunges up through his back pain and wraps his arms around my throat, dragging me down to the ground. On top of him now, I quickly slam my elbow into his mouth, over and over and over again until he lets go. When I'm finally free of his grip, I don't spare a second look – I don't care for breathing, or thinking – I just level up my warhammer once more and crush it into his face.

With a disgusting _crunch_ of every bone in his head breaking, I slowly lift up the weapon and look away from his destroyed face. Blood is pooling everywhere, his eyes, for real this time, have popped out of his head, and a chunk of his brain and bones are on the ground right next to his head...

I just want to throw up right now, but I can't do anything until I get out of this Arena. Not without a break.

 _Boom!_

Wait... How many people are left? Two, or three? _Is this the finale?_ And where's Bree?

''KASTER!'' I hear, and my stomach drops. ''KASTER—''

Running to the exit of the cave, I let the anxiety catch up to me. ''BREE!'' I call out, extremely worried. _Oh, no no no no... NO!_ ''BREE, ARE YOU OKAY?!''

Just as I get out, I see her and... Ceres is on top of Bree with a sickle in her hand, and the two girls are battling it out to the death. Taking a step forward, I slowly come to a halt. _Your ally or your District Partner? How would the District feel if you helped a foreign girl and killed your own kind?_

I don't even get a chance to process that thought quick enough because a beeping noise is sounding _right next to my ear._ Searching for the cause of that irritating beeping, I spin around, but nothing's there. But then it hits me... ''Oh, my God.''

 _When Emil grabbed you, he placed a couple of those deadly explosives in your shirt. GET IT OUT, KASTER! GET THEM ALL OUT!_

A blinding flash explodes, and then I feel myself issuing amid a mass of terrible sensations. The fearful blow of the explosion hits me, and everything goes black.

Not only did I leave Bree out there all alone and got caught up with my own personal fight, but I didn't give the _genius-kid –_ keyword: _genius_ – credit for everything that he's done and everything that he _would_ do.

In the end, I ended up being the same me. And look where I'm at now.

 _ **''KASTER!''**_

* * *

 **6th - Sawyer Fira, District Seven  
**

 **5th - Atlas Aureliano, District Two**

 **4th - Emil Robins, District Three**

 **3rd - Kaster Navelle, District Eleven**

* * *

 **Megan, Sawyer was absolutely fantastic. I dunno if I ever told you when I first got her, but I knew coming into these Games that I could do a lot with her. I always wanted to transform that hostility of hers into a rage that would actually force her into wanting to kill other tributes after everything that happened. Ocelot's death definitely had an impact on her. For a moment, I wanted to ally to two, because I thought it would work, and I had her going through so much pain and suffering after he would've died and that would, most likely, have propelled her up to around 3rd or so. At times, she was my Victor. Her background was sad to me, and she deserved to go back home to take care of her mother and get her some medicine and help and afford what they couldn't have. Her life was always a struggle. She was one of my personal favorites, but I thought it was better that she died fighting like a hero and the strong girl that she was instead of falling to depression and hatred for everything in the Panem but not being unable to do anything about it. She was fantastic, honestly. R.I.P.**

 **Metallic, dude, I loved Atlas. And really, I'm glad that I changed his District from One to Two because if he was in One, I don't think he would've made it as far as he did, with the whole Blush situation that she'd probably work on him and all. Looking back at it, so many things could have been so different for a lot of these tributes, but I'm glad that Atlas ended up where he was. After the death of one of his best friends in the Arena, I just knew that everything would go downhill from then on. The Games and his District would cloud his mind - like they've always been clouding his judgement. Killing Sawyer made him realize that he shouldn't have ever gotten himself into this, not even if it made his District happy, because his life was more important than other kids dying. Realizing that he needed to fight to win was hard to write because I couldn't see a genuinely kind guy like him _wanting_ to go through something like that. I don't think that I ever had him winning besides once, but I always wanted him to go far because he was sort of the underdog Career. The one with the personality that wouldn't take him far, but he got past all of them - all of the real ones. I hope that I was able to write him the way that you wanted, because this guy was a blast. R.I.P.**

 **Jalen, Emil... Oh, my God, no, Emil was my personal favorite out of all of them. Yeah, yeah, I know I say a lot of them were my favorites, especially Adonis, but Emil was the ultimate tribute. His submission form got me to smile the most, and he was the most enjoyable to write for. From his genius personality to his quirkiness to his idiocy to his humor to his attention-craving personality... It was all just amazing. I can't describe Emil in any other way, because that's just what he was - amazing. His development really hurt me. Going from that kid who was shy at some points to not really knowing if he wanted to kill, but after the Capitol continued to feed him and encourage him to go after other tributes, he realized that that was exactly what he needed to do and live up to. And when he got his sponsor gift, I KNEW that he would rule the Arena. The hype was real for him, and really, Emil was my Victor at least five different times. While I was writing this, I wanted to just forget about him dying and somehow manage to get him past Kaster's defenses and just go out there and destroy the remaining tributes. If that did happen, he would've been the highlight of the Capitol. His life would have been completed because everyone would be looking at him, the genius from Three who wasn't a weakling like all the others. But here, I figured it was the best outcome. Him and Kaster were even, and this fight turned out enjoyable for me. I know I spoiled his placement for you back when I took a break from this story, and then I lied to you and told you that I'd change it, but hey, I hope it hit you with surprise. Anyway, thank you SO much for submitting him. Possibly the best tribute I've received out of all my SYOTs. R.I.P.**

 **Lae, I feel so bad for this one. Kaster, as you know from the beginning, was one of those tributes that I automatically clicked with. I felt so connected to him already and just understood what he needed. The adrenaline rush and all that, that's what was able to push me to decide to give him a few kills. Sure, he felt bad about it, but to protect the people that he loved and cared for... It was just what I wanted from him, because I could easily imagine someone like that in real life doing similar things. His guilty feeling for his allies dying is why he saved Bree so long ago, and he couldn't stand to see anyone he cared for get hurt. Kaster was a sweet guy who just got blindsided by his need for more. Having fun and just moving was his high, and he wanted more and more and more. I loved developing him into someone who wasn't hesitant on hurting others. After his kill on Clarice, everything just clicked even more, and I knew where exactly I wanted him to go. He found his match with Emil, though. Kaster was smart, but Emil was smarter. In the end, he turned into a new guy, but he had the same old habits - those habits that he could never grow out of is what led to his downfall, and I'm sorry about killing him. Kaster was, also, my Victor numerous times. I think I had ten different scenarios of him leaving the Arena and going back home to Eleven. He was fun to write for, believe me, and I hope that I did well with him. Though I connected with him, he was difficult to capture at times and I didn't feel confident with how I had written him. But now, I'm happy with how things turned out. R.I.P., Kaster.**

* * *

 **Ayee! So this chapter wasn't supposed to be so long, but I couldn't help it. I actually thought it would be better to hear from every tribute in this chapter, so sorry if that was bothersome. Hopefully this chapter was better than the last, because I thought so. This is probably my favorite chapter of this story, and maybe yours, too. Idk, but hopefully it was entertaining. I don't wanna drag this A/N out, but I'd like to congratulate Soul and bookwormmocking on their tributes getting this far. These ladies sure have had one hell of a ride, and at certain points when writing this story, I concluded that these two should be the last two remaining. I know who I want to win, but granted, both of them deserve it. I want both to win, but I have something I want to do with the other more than the one who's dying next chapter. Speaking of next chapter, there will be two more remaining. The finale, and then the family lives of the dead tributes and a recap on the Victor's current life. I can't be bothered with Victory Tours, because I hate writing chapters like that - as you can tell from the Interviews. And then, after that, if I'm up to it, I might just continue from this story and write another SYOT - no matter how tiring that shit is. Anyway, a few questions if y'all don't mind?**

* * *

 **You're a tribute in the Games, and after four more cannons boom, you realize that you're in the final two. What's going on through your mind?**

 **Say you're either Bree or Ceres - or both. As Ceres, what would you try to do at this point, seeing as you have the advantage? And if you're Bree, how are you getting out of this situation?**

 **Your ally and people that you've met throughout the Games have died this exact day and you see their faces in the sky. Do you feel pity for them, push them to the back of your mind and continue trudging through, burst down into tears and cry, etc?**

 **Would you guys be interested in another SYOT? I'm honestly down for it if you guys are.**

 **Lastly, who do you THINK will win? I feel like if I ask who you guys want to win, you'll all say the same thing. Not confident on it, but I believe so. But if you'd like to say who you want to win as well, go right ahead. I don't care if it's biased, either.  
**

* * *

 **Anyway, that's all for now. Glad I took my time on this chapter, because it turned out well, in my opinion. The finale will be filled with conversation and fighting, so keep your eyes out for that. Whoever ends up winning, I hope you'll all be fine with the decision. I know that not all of you like both of these tributes, but I tried to put a lot of reader input along with my own personal opinion, because I wanna give you guys what you want while also writing the story how I picture it out to be. Hope I don't sound like an ass saying that lmao. Anyway, have a wonderful time doing whatever the hell you're doing wherever the hell you are. See y'all next time, bye! ^^**


	22. Murder, She Wrote

**The Finale:**

* * *

 ** _You know, before chapters like this, I like to leave notes to ask that the readers don't skip down to the bottom and spoil themselves. I'd rather you read it from the top, but here, I don't care. This chapter was difficult to write for so many reasons, and if you wanna skip, go ahead, man. I was hesitant on writing the eulogy at the bottom, but if you're really craving to know, by all means, aye. Just promise to come back up and read at least the last POV, or whichever one you want, if not all of them? It's your choice - not mine. But enjoy._**

* * *

 **Bree Andersson, District Six**

* * *

 _...Boom!_

She's got her sickle to my throat, trying her hardest to force it down my trachea before I can find a way out of this situation, trying to make it _quick. But I don't want to die, not yet! Not at all! And neither do I want anyone that I know to die – including Kaster._

But where is he? Who's cannon was that? Why can't I hear Kaster's footsteps anymore? Did he ditch me and get himself killed? As she tries to descend her sickle once more, I grab a hold onto her arms and pummel against her body, wiggling underneath her legs in order to set myself free. My broadsword is off to the left of me, and I want to reach for it so badly, but one slip up and I'm _dead!_

In a moment of struggle, I see her cold eyes flicker from me to whoever that is she's facing, and a scared look crosses her features. _Please be Kaster, please be Kaster, please be Kaster... Please be Kaster!_

And then I hear it... ''BREE!'' He's calling out for me. He's still _alive!_ ''BREE, ARE YOU OKAY?!''

Trying to take advantage of her disoriented state, I reach up to her chest and try to pry her grip away from the sickle. ''No you don't!'' she grunts, ignoring Kaster and smacking me across the cheek. The stinging pain already tells me that there's a red coloring to my flushed face, and all I can feel at the moment is pain, agony, and fear.

''I swear to God, if you try to get anywhere near her, Kaster, I will rip her fu—!''

Everything, and I mean _eve_ _rything_ , changes in a mere instance. The air starts to smell of burning, acrid, chemical infused and choking flames. Slightly tilting my head to the right, afraid of what I might see, I internally shriek at the horrifying image in front of me. It's like something straight out of a horror movie – the caves are twisted and charred, leaving nothing to salvage in, not a damn thing. And then...

 _...Boom!_

This isn't real. This _can't_ be real...

The panic begins to fill me like a cluster of spark plugs in my abdomen, shocking me to the deepest parts of my body. Tension grows to my face and limbs, and my mind continues to replay the last attack. Trying to control my breathing, I can't help but allow it to grow rapid, more shallow... The thoughts continue to accelerate inside of my mind, and I want them to slow down so that I can properly control myself, but they _won't!_

My heart jumps into my chest and continues hammering like it belongs to a rabbit running for its skin. Gasping uncontrollably, I slowly begin to feel like I'm going to pass out. Everything around me spins, despite me lying helplessly on the floor, trying to make sense of everything that my body can't fucking cope with!

I feel so sick, so _terribly_ sick. I want everything to just end so that I can leave this damned Arena, but I'm far from escaping – far from coming to the conclusion that my ally is _dead._

 _ **''KASTER!''**_

The paralyzing hurt spreads through my body like icy, liquid metal. My body twitches automatically, fighting the impulse to get up and _run!_ A scream's trapped in my throat, wanting to remain still, destroying my coarse throat. Crunching my teeth over my bottom lip harder than I've ever done before, I taste the metallic, salty blood that fills my mouth incredibly fast.

People say that there's nothing to fear but fear itself, yet in my world, that isn't true – many things are worse than fear. The truth, for me... is that I'm afraid of _dying –_ afraid of ending up like so many of these other tributes, including my own District Partner. But for God's sake, why them?! ...Why anyone?! Why is life so unfair?!

''Why, though...?'' I ask quietly, looking away from Ceres. Dumbfounded, she turns her head back to me and struggles to manage words. ''What the hell do we fear that's keeping us from being angels of our better natures? Who puts that fear in our hearts and minds?''

She sits on top of me, her skin almost as white as chalk. Her eyes and her mouth are frozen wide open in an expression of stunned surprise, and although she's staring straight at me, she doesn't seem to notice my existence at all. Still as a statue and face stuck in an incredulous expression, she shakes her head in disbelief.

'' _YOU!_ '' I scream, fighting against my conscience that's telling me to cool it. ''YOU AND THAT STUPID CAPITOL! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE, ALWAYS FIGHTING FOR WHAT'S WRONG?! WHY CAN'T THIS NATION BE AT PEACE?! WHY CAN'T WE ALL BE RELAXED AND COMFORTABLE IN EACH OTHER'S ARMS? WHY CAN'T WE DEFEND ONE ANOTHER INSTEAD OF FIGHTING AND KILLING AND TORTURING?! YOU MONSTERS JUST DON'T GET IT, DO YOU?!''

 _Everything that we've all worked for, everything that we've gained, is all annihilated with the stroke of a wrist... If it wasn't for the stupid Capitol, all twenty-two other tributes would still be alive, living their lives back in their respective Districts, unaware of the others' existence! That, honestly, would have been a better conclusion than this!_

But with all these emotions surging through me, I still fight. I fight the feelings as my body writhes to be free or shut down entirely; I fight for the sake of my deceased friends and my worrying family; I fight for _me_. Each time this happens, a part of me gets stronger, learning how to cope with my problems more, but it never feels right – especially not now.

This is how I keep moving forward – by changing, by developing, by adapting and going through terror in this Game – this is why others think I'm brave. But I'm not, though; I just know how to push through fear better than others, even though I'm currently breaking.

''I-I-I... I... I do—'' she stutters, gulping as she sweats nervously. ''I don't... I—''

''SHUT. UP!'' Slamming the heel of my palm into her stomach and pushing her off of me, I quickly rise up to my feet and scoop my broadsword off the ground. Wasting no time, I begin swinging at her wildly, not giving a damn whether I accidentally cut myself or not.

She rolls away from me in determination, giving a defiant, judging stare as she removes her presence from my personal space and begins taking off back into the dark Cornucopia.

As I follow after her, I try to get a good glance at her face. Surprisingly, she's contorted her look into a stony, boring expression. To me, that's pointless. _Does she feel no remorse for her dead District Partner?_

When she enters the Cornucopia and hides herself within its unimaginably faded lighting, I decide to slow down and think about my options: either I go in there completely blind while she can potentially see me due to this moon lighting, or I wait it out here and be smart about my choices.

Frankly, the latter is a much better alternative. I can feel fires of fury and hatred smoldering in my small, narrowed eyes as I weigh the pros and cons of each selection available to me. _But you know that she didn't kill Kaster, right? So why do you want to fight her? Why do you want to kill the girl who did nothing to you? Nothing personal, at least._

Shaking my head with a feeling of just being fed up, I run my left hand through my brown hair three times in a quick succession and fix the Cornucopia in a stare that I hope reaches and freezes Ceres.

''What's wrong with you?'' I shout at her, wasting no time to get my point across. ''You, you... you—'' I sniff, wiping the tears away before they can fully form. ''—you're doing what they _want_ you to do, and you're okay with this?''

''No, I'm not! Not at all!'' she screams back at me, her voice deep inside of the Cornucopia. ''You don't know me at all! A girl is wrong for trying to survive and go back to her old, regular life? You act like you wouldn't try to kill me if you had an opening, you fucking hypocrite!''

''And why would I? I have no beef with you, no vendetta against the things you've done – you've had nothing to do with me throughout this entire Game, but today – tonight – you... you tried to kill me! Not only that, but you don't even care about your deceased partner!''

''THAT'S WHAT WE'RE SUPPOSED TO DO, IDIOT! OH, AND I SHOULD CARE FOR A BOY THAT I BARELY KNEW? HE AND I HAD NO CONNECTION WHATSOEVER; HE WAS JUST A STRANGER FROM THE SAME DISTRICT AS ME, BUT TO YOU, HE WAS YOUR BESTFRIEND, YOUR ALLY, YOUR MOST TRUSTWORTHY COMPANION! SO DON'T CARE ABOUT MY FEELINGS TOWARDS HIM, WORRY ABOUT YOUR OWN!''

''...How could you say something like that?'' I ask, my voice cracking with every syllable of every word. ''You don't care about anyone else but your—''

''It's quite easy, actually. Like you just said, I _don't_ care. Quit reflecting on my personal opinions and look out for yourself!'' she warns me, a small giggle resonating through the empty structure. ''Better jump before the fire gets ya!''

Whipping around, I try to bypass the approaching flames as they lunge forward, attempting to throw me backwards and into the Cornucopia. Footsteps stomp against the gravel, and I already know that Ceres is trying to plan an attack on me, but I jump out of the way before either her or the fire reaches me.

Surprised by my sudden movement, she swings without thinking and manages to throw herself onto the ground. Readying myself once more, I drag my sword across the dirty, rusty, disgusting grit, blinking away the welling tears as they desperately try to clog my vision and sabotage me.

But everything stops before I can even make a move, and the ground begins to shake furiously. The only logical explanation for this is that something's gonna send us crashing down, and if we're lucky enough, both of us will survive.

 _Soon, though, one of us is gonna fall._

* * *

 **Ceres Morissey, District Eleven**

* * *

 _There's no time to prepare._

Earthquake? Maybe. Fear overload? Yes, definitely. Diving to the ground and holding onto the dear clod as I regain my composure, I clutch at the stone-shaped structures sticking out of the earth as the floor rips apart. The quake could have been produced at any other time before, but here it is; right here, right now.

The ground is shaking and splitting like extended thunder, but it's only worse because the vibrations are coming from below. The sponsor table tumbles to the ground, followed by the tall, mighty Cornucopia. The weapons from inside all fall from the walls as well, metal and glass clanging against the landscape. Suddenly, everything tumbles at once, and Bree's scream grows lost under the deafening noise.

Following after her, the District Six and Seven sponsor bags glide at her side, while I force myself to clutch my own sponsor bag so that it doesn't get lost somewhere down under. The wind slaps me across the face multiple times, making it difficult for me to breathe, but I'm not gonna let that stop me.

When we crash into the ground, our falls broken by the destructive rubble before us, we both scramble up to our feet, mesmerized by the sound of the land above us shaking with more noise than a quarry detonation. Gulping, I look straight at Bree, who continues to stare at the gaping hole overhead.

Loudly, the Capitol Anthem blasts and the seal appears, toying with both of our emotions – they _want_ us to look into the eyes of the dead tributes, of the ones we saw only thirty minutes ago... So _cruel!_

Atlas' face appears, then Emil's, followed by Sawyer's – but when Kaster's face emerges in the sky, his warm, courageous smile lighting up the entire atmosphere, not only do I internally break, but Bree's reaction _kills_ me.

I don't even classify what she's letting out as crying. It's the kind of desolate sobbing that comes from a person who's drained of all hope. She sinks to her knees at the tiny gravel, not caring for the disgusting debris and damp water that dirties her knees. Her tears mingle with her disheveled hair, and her gasping wails echo off of the surface around us.

Gritting my teeth with a feeling of sadness and disappointment and hatred, I turn away from her pitiful state and look around at the environment. My eyes widen with shock as I look behind me, and what I see keeps me paralyzed. ...High up in the clouds – and not the clouds outside, because it's night, but the clouds literally under the regular starting point – a golden spheroidal object moves from mountains to the north at a tremendous speed. Veering sharply to the south-west, the golden sphere begins to project words that I don't assume are going to be beneficial to either of us.

 _ **The Golden Capital City of Agartha: Welcome to Shambhala!**_

Squinting my eyes, I turn away and scoff. What city? Agartha? The fuck is Shambhala? Has this been the Arena this entire time? Some type of ancient, secret world that's been hidden from us, or some made-up theory that these idiotic Gamemakers brought to life? ''What the hell?''

Snapping back to Bree, I bend down for my sickle and grasp the handle with my cold hands. Her pain flows from her as palpable as the frigid wind that makes itself present. She struggles to keep her tears silent, looking up at the dark sky and heaven beyond.

''That's just how it is,'' I say, approaching her quickly. Her head jolts upward, and she seems to have come to a sudden realization as I continue speaking. Racing forward with the sickle, I formulate a simple plan on how I can end this quickly and get out of here. ''You won't get over anything if you keep weeping and hiding in the pain that you feel!''

Raising my sickle in the air, I look to sink it into her right arm before she can react – but I'm too late, because she rises up to her feet and reels away from me in seconds. Wiping her hair away from her eyes and blinking away the tears, she looks around for something – something that I'm unaware of, most likely.

Crouching down, she grabs a handful of dirt and tosses it at me. It spreads in front of me, much larger than I would have imagined. Jumping away from the soil and dust, I prepare myself for her to jump out and stab me, but she never comes. I stand there, poised – _focused_ – waiting for the attack that never reaches me.

Then I see her, with a bag strapped around her shoulder, and she looks me dead in the eye. Taking off in a full sprint, Bree appears right in front of me in no time, and I barely manage to avoid her sword from sinking into my stomach. It grazes me, though, and a trail of blood escapes my body.

Holding a hand up, I anticipate the wrong move next. Tossing the bag in her hand forward, she smacks me in the face and forces me to bite down on my tongue. Struggling to catch my balance as I stumble backwards, I throw a hand up to my mouth to try and stop the bleeding.

Again, she swings, but this time I'm ready. Ducking under, I drag my sickle across her thigh and repay her for the previous cut that she gave me. The pain is written all over her face as she begins to slow down, and this time I'm the alpha-female. ''That was a good strategy. You're no pushover.''

Shoulder tackling her forcefully, I manage to knock her off of her feet. While she's on the floor, I press one knee against her arm and connect my fist with her nose. A loud _crack_ resonates from her face, but I ignore it and continue to attack.

Just as I lower my arm and try to shut her screaming ass up by striking her jaw, she widens her mouth and bites my knuckles. Her teeth sink deeply into my skin, and the pain floods through my entire arm in no time. I try to yank my hand away, but she's got such a tight grip on me that her teeth only scratch my hand even more.

Growing impatient, I grab her by the hair and pull away from her scalp as hard as I can. Immediately, Bree lets go and hollers a ghostly yell.

''STOP IT!'' she pleads, but I'm not gonna withdraw my attack; she's gonna have to force me. Throwing my sickle up into the air along with my arm, I poise it directly in front of her throat. With a blunt kick, though, Bree slams her foot into my stomach and knocks me away from her.

Gasping, she faces away from me as she tries to crawl to safety, her face creased and her fists closed so tight that I can see the sweat trapped inside of them. ''The sweeping insensitivity of this is terrible,'' she coughs up, and my heart almost stops. ''Y-You do know th-that... b-both of our lives are s-still, right? No matter which one of us wins, nothing good's gonna come from this?''

''What did you say?'' I question, shaking my head in visible disagreement. ''You're wrong! You're so, _so_ wrong! I have a family to go back to and things that I need to accomplish!''

''Like what?!''

''L-Like—!'' I stop, thinking about her question for a moment. _Really, like what? Revenge? On who? The Capitol? But with who? Who's gonna help you?_ ''SHUT UP! DON'T ASK QUESTIONS TO THINGS THAT ARE NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS!''

Looking like she's got a hold on herself, she shifts around and faces me once again, ignoring the gash in her thigh and the dirt all over her as she smiles nervously. ''Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth. Keep talking like that and you'll get _nowhere_.''

I knew that when I stepped foot in this Arena that I'd do something pretty awful, and no matter what happened, I always moved forward to justify my malicious actions. The more demanding the reparations my subconscious requires, the worse I know it is. But who's going to attempt to stop the Capitol if I don't win? Who's going to stand up to their wrong-doings and put an end to all of this?!

''And mid-sweet sentences keep leaving your mouth. Don't give me that shit!''

I cut my competition down any which way I could, fast and dirty. It didn't matter to me, but now I'm feeling it. It squeezes in my brain, obliterating the thinking I need to wheel-and-deal. Either I get tougher or start listening to my conscience, because this middle ground guilt is no good to anyone.

If I win, I can make amends in a subtle way, but confession is out of the question. Maybe one day I'll be clean from my sins and have them all washed away, but right now...

Rushing Bree, I take my own bag and hurl it at her. Swiping her broadsword upwards, she slices the bag in half and the remnants pour out. To my surprise, a metal chest plate falls from the bag – and how did I not see that before? _Was I so blinded by frustration and desperation that I forgot to look in every compartment? How stupid of me!_

''Looks like it'll be a fair fight now that you don't have _that_ ,'' she smiles, kicking the most necessary piece of equipment that anyone's gotten in this Game away. Without thinking, I swing at her again, my gaze fixed on the blood washing down her mouth and dripping from her chin.

Catching my weapon with her own, Bree steps in between my legs and applies more strength to her defensive block, pushing me downwards. Rolling the dice, I let one arm go free and elbow her in that injured thigh. Taking control of her pain, I spin around her and slice my sickle across her back, digging deep and yanking the weapon away as blood spurts free.

She screams with agony, but she's not a quitter. Just by looking at her, I can tell that she's surpassed every expectation laid out for her. Smacking her across the back of the head, though, I watch her fumble and sprawl forward.

When I reach out to grab her, she hooks her foot around my ankle and brings me down with her. Both of us fall on the hard ground, being cut by the crashed metal and steel and glass and crumbs on the floor. Pushing myself up with my arms, I feel something hard smack against my temple, and I'm pushed back with a breath-knocking blow.

Stars hover over my vision, and the wound in my head starts throbbing repeatedly. Bree quickly mounts on top of me and continues to lash out with whatever that thing is. I can feel my skin splitting as the blood trickles down my cheek, but I'm not going out like this – not at all!

Clutching her wrist as she tries to attack again, I sink my nails into her arm and twist until I hear a _pop_ and _crack._ Bree screams; I chuckle. The pain spreads across my entire body like a wildfire, but I manage to ignore it as best as I can – honestly, she's probably experiencing more hurt than me.

There are times where my brain fries up, but this isn't one of them. It's no excuse, I know; I own my behavior. Sometimes I just don't care, though. But this time, I do. Something just... something changes inside of me, like a switch has just been flipped. My emotions turn – now cold, drastic, anxious...

''I know it's cliché, but my back's not against the wall anymore – I've been working so hard, for so _long_ , trying to find a way out. I've been searching for the truth but I couldn't find shit. No matter what anyone says, it's over, and I'm moving on. It's not my problem anymore, it's _yours._ ''

Switching our positions, I retake my rightful place, wrap my arms around her neck, throw her head up, and slam it back down.

In these moments, I'm least proud of who I am, for I fail to live up to presumptions of the warrior I was born to be, the strong woman with the desired softness of a mother. Instead, I show myself as a desperate child: damaged, afraid, foul. These are things for me to work on, not for others to mitigate. I'm a few months short of becoming an adult, so I need to start acting like one and take responsibility for my actions.

But I shouldn't expect anything less from the girl who's lived past everything and continues to move strongly. She's something that I'm not – she's _brave._

 _I've been in this exact same position with this exact same girl before, but I couldn't capitalize on the opportunity given to me. And I still can't._

She shoots her knee up to my abdomen as I smash her head into the ground once more, but this time she repeats her actions just like me. When I can't take anymore of it, I let go of her neck and leave myself wide open for her to kick me in the knee. Toppling over her, I quickly realize how dire my situation is – I don't have my sickle on me, and she's _ten feet_ away from her broadsword!

 _DON'T LET HER GAIN THE ADVANTAGE! YOU'RE SO CLOSE! DON'T LOSE! DON'T CHOKE! DON'T DIE!_

My brain clicks instantly and tells me to hurry up and grab her before she can reclaim her weapon. But it's too late. She's already up to her feet, quickly grabs her broadsword, and as I rush after her, screaming in fear, she turns around, grasps me by the wrist, and plunges her weapon into my side.

Everything moves slowly for me. After all that I've gone through – being stable for many years, caring for myself and my family, pouring out love without measure while hiding that hatred that was always deep inside of me, yet never knowing how to unleash it – it's all coming to an end. I'm gonna be... _free?_

 _Free..._ That word sounds amazing, but why does it hurt so much?

It's the only medicine that can heal my fractured soul – being free. So like a stupid child, I hold out for help and love with wide eyes and shaking limbs as the blood shoots out and covers both Bree and me, still looking for that dark place that I was in a few years back, but praying for Oatis and the light to come and catch me.

 _Quickly, please, my love._

* * *

 **Dalan Veneire, District Six**

* * *

The tiny cafe huddles despondent among the huge city buildings. Washed out under the overcast sky, it hunches in itself, fighting against the drizzle. Hundreds of people rush by it, observing every current Victor – including me – from the past twenty years or so all watching the Games on a large television screen. Everyone glances at the door as we hear cheers and hollers.

How ironic.

Unlike the outside, the interior of this cafe is dark and gloomy, with dull lights and smudged but colorful walls. Despite the rain, it's warm and cheery out there. We all face forward once more and return to our casual conversations as a blast of cold wind chills down my spine.

No Victor is incredibly happy at the end of the Games. Either you lose a child you've grown close to, or you bring back yet another destroyed soul. When the Career Victors don't succeed, they're usually frustrated that their tributes have been changed deeply and were destroyed by the environment, and that the Outer District children become cold-blooded killers.

But when _we_ lose, it's sad. Yet, despite all the talent these Games had to offer, somehow me and Cythrie managed to help our tributes reach the final two.

'' _Look!_ '' Marelle squeals, jumping up and pointing at the T.V.

Raising my brows in suspicion, I witness Bree piercing her sword into Ceres' side. My eyes widen instantly to the point where I believe that they'll pop out of their sockets.

Ceres tumbles to the ground, and a faint ''Damn!'' comes from behind me. She lies there with rough, raspy breathes leaving her lips. Bree hobbles up, swaying back and forth, struggling to catch her balance, and falls to her knees.

Turning my cheek to the side, I spot Conly placing a hand on Cythrie's shoulder. ''Hey, man, it's not over yet,'' he breathes, seemingly pitiful of the current situation at hand. _See? Even the goofiest, most immature Victors lose their spirit when watching the Games._ ''We both brought our tributes far, but don't lose hope yet. She can come back.''

Cythrie and I meet eyes rather abruptly, but instead of seeming disappointed or depressed, he just gives me a curt nod.

''Don't watch,'' Amille coos to Colette, placing her hands over her eyes.

''...T-That r-really h-h-hurts...'' Ceres cries, tears drifting down her cheeks silently. ''I-I... I-I feel so fucked...''

Bree finally regains the foothold that she was searching for, grabbing her weapon by the hilt and dragging it forward. Ceres lets out an ear-shattering scream that makes me cringe. The sword slithers across her side to her belly button, and blood begins to rush out even more. If I wasn't used to seeing someone's insides rip open and their guts hang out, I would've thrown up by now. ''THAT HURTS!''

''It's supposed to hurt..!'' Bree screams, leaning against the sword with both of her hands, applying her body weight onto the painful attack. Ceres' expression says it all, but Bree's shows that she's not trying to hurt Ceres. She's just tired and can't stop herself from using whatever she can to her advantage.

The back of her head is cut open, blood oozing freely from the laceration right above her nape. ''Y'-Yeah, I-I-I guess so... This is how C-Cathodette felt, h-huh..?''

''And Kaster and Emil and Atlas and Sawyer and _everyone_ else,'' Bree states.

''W-What a-about y-y-you?'' Ceres places a derisive smirk on her face, but it's quickly replaced with a sad, heart-splitting frown.

''Me?'' Bree almost laughs. ''I... I'm _dead_. At least I feel dead. I just... I-I can't believe my eyes, because this _can't_ be happening..! Just... I just wanna wake up from this terrible nightmare and be back home, lying in my bed and crying over this horrible, _horrible_ ordeal. I want to pretend like I never met any of you and that you were all just made-up people. I want to go back in time and make sure that neither Poet, Kaster, nor Beckett died. I want to go back and make sure that _you_ never got this stupid sword carved into you. In any other dimension, you and I would've been best friends, but in here? No, fuck that...''

''Well, o-of course w-we wo-would have been best f-friends,'' Ceres sniffs, her eyes slowly drifting to sleep. ''H-How c-could I not be f-friends with s-some so _similar_ to me?''

'' _Similar?_ '' Bree questions. ''But... I tend to _care_ about things. You don't! You've never cared! What's the deal?! I don't get it!''

''The deal is that I'm going to die and that people tend to change when they understand how deep of a mess they're in,'' she forces that answer out, avoiding a single break or stutter in her voice.

''I don't believe you,'' Bree responds blatantly. ''You're too calm to be feeling any sort of remorse or sympathy for anyone. You haven't shown any yet, but now you've changed? That's complete bull.''

''You mistake my calm for a readiness to take on more, to deal with more. Perhaps once it was. Now it's just exhausting, quiet and subdued, only hoping to respite from the storms.'' Ceres lies there bleary-eyed, her appearance describing a look that shows that she's having a futile tussle of conflicting thoughts in her mind. ''People develop over time. Take yourself f-for example... W-When you get home, p-promise me that y-you'll look in a mirror and realize that you're n-not the same person that you once were. T-Then you'll u-understand what I'm saying.

''But—''

''But nothing!'' Scowling at my tribute, she begs, ''I did this to myself, and I feel as though the energy is constantly being drained out of me, and my body is fucking _burning!_ Just end this. Put me out of my misery.''

Struggling to hold her hands up, she finally darts them to her chest and says, ''See right here? Take that r-ridiculous weapon out of me and shove it into my heart. End this, Bree. Let me die already. Someone's waiting for me on the other side, and I don't want to keep him waiting any longer.''

Clutching the handle of the sword, Bree yanks the weapon out of Ceres' body, gasping as she cries, and hovers it over her chest. The young girl's silent weeping is worse than any tantrum or scream that a child could produce – her eyes well up with a sadness that her young eyes shouldn't possess. Her tears project her soul, aged by a few days in this fucked up world that we live in. The silence of her cry becomes eerie, like she's been forced to learn how to do this. In no way is it possible to mend a soul as damaged as hers.

''STOP CRYING AND END IT ALREADY, DAMMIT!''

''I'M SO _SORRY!_ ''

''...don't be.''

 _Boom!_

With the sword in her heart and a cruel smile plastered on her face, Ceres' body lies lifelessly in the middle of the rubble. Bree's fragile physique topples over her, wrapping her in a useless hug as she lets the tears flow. If you didn't know what was going on, it would seem as if both of these girls were sleeping until you saw the dark blood seeping freely. A tear in their fabrics and the gruesome stains are all you need to catch a glimpse of to understand what just happened.

 _ **''Ladies and gentleman, I present to you the Victor of the One Hundred Seventy-Sixth Annual Hunger Games: Bree Andersson!''**_

The cameras circle around the Arena, taking note of the corpses underneath the rubble and beyond. Everything goes dark, but nobody moves; nobody says anything; nobody even shows a hint of activity.

...But I can feel all of their eyes being focused on me.

''Good game,'' I hear in the background.

 _I brought back a tribute... My first ever. It's been a good seven years, and I had no faith in myself to help a destroyed child win. But I did. Was it worth it, though? No. She's broken, and that can't be fixed._

''Y-Yeah, you, too,'' I reply.

A couple of hands rest themselves on my shoulders, comforting me, but I can't hold back tears of my own.

 _I'm sorry, Bree. For what they've done to you, and for what they're gonna do to you._

* * *

 **2nd - Ceres Morissey, District Eleven  
**

 **1st - Bree Andersson, District Six**

* * *

 **bookworm, before I even start... I'm sorry, really. That's how I can sum things up here. Ceres was a fantastic tribute, I realized that from the start. But really, I didn't fully understand her until halfway into this story. She was originally supposed to place around 15-12, but after that long ass break and coming up with ideas again, I just couldn't get over how awesome she would be. Sure, people hated her after betraying both of her allies, but really, if put into a situation like that in real life, I think everyone would think of saying 'Fuck loyalty' for at least a second. The only thing is that she acted it out, which gave me so many openings to play with her. It would have either destroyed her, fueled her, or discouraged her - and in this case, it fueled her. I LOVED writing her willing attitude to do anything to survive. She was so good at what she did, and for good reasons, too. I don't know if people saw her as an antagonist, but to me, she was an anti-hero. She was so relatable, if I'm telling the truth. Like, I could easily connect to her and put myself in her position. Having your lover being killed by the same people who put you into these Death Games, and your only goal is to get back at them. She changed a LOT, and I have to thank you for submitting her to me. At the start of this story, I was waiting to receive that one tribute who was ready to do anything at all costs. Everyone I got had flaws, but hers were less noticeable. The things she held back, the things she said, the way she showed no hesitation or weakness. In my opinion, she would have made a spectacular Career. Again, I'm sorry. 2nd place is the worst placement to get, in my opinion, behind 24th. It hurts, and I _hate_ handing out seconds, because I've gotten second like 3 times and it sucks. She was just spectacular in all areas, and she was my Victor at least three times. While writing her POV, when she got the upper hand, I seriously said to myself, ''She's going to win. She's gotta win at this point.'' Choosing a Victor is never easy, I think every SYOT writer can agree on that, unless they have some sort of vendetta against the 2nd place tribute. She had ups and downs, but in the end, she was reunited. She fought hard, long, and even though it all didn't pay off in a physical form in the end, it did in a mental form. Just imagine her and Oatis holding hands in the afterlife, walking along a golden bridge. That's how I see it playing out, and I like that ending for her.**

 **Soul, shit. Bree, to be frank, was my Victor from the start. After rounding up every tribute, I was pondering who I had as an early winner. Bree took that spot and ran off with it from the beginning all the way to the end. From her personality to her quote, it just made sense. She was just the obvious choice, and a couple of people predicted it in the blog reviews, but I don't know if opinions changed or whatever. She was just a joy. Her leadership, her strength, her everything. Right now, I honestly don't even know what to say, but I know that I'll have a lot to add in later after this chapter's updated. She wasn't an easy tribute to develop, because at first, I believed that she had everything necessary to succeed, but then I remembered how overconfident she was, and how she would only listen to herself. After meeting Kaster and the rest and having that confrontation with Atlas, everything changed. Her allies dying, killing for the first time, then killing once again right after. The emotions that she felt were conflicting, especially towards the end. Bree's reaction to all these things was what I would think a Victor would experience. She was once so hardened and is now broken down into a crying mess, but that's normal, isn't it, in a circumstance like this? I always imagined her killing, but I didn't know when. But look at her now, with permanent blood on her hands. It's sad, but it makes sense, imo. When I first started SYOTs, almost every single one that I read had a D6 female Victor, and I was like, ''Wtf, why do they all end the same way?'' I legit promised myself that I wouldn't have a female Victor from Six, but look at where we are now. Although this spot might be won with a lot, Bree was just perfect for it. She was unlike other tributes that I'd seen before, and her background wasn't too much. It was realistic, worthwhile, and simple. She wasn't overdone, she wasn't extensive, she was just her, and that's all I needed. Everything about her was awesome, and you created a wonderful tribute. Although she's lost so much in just a short amount of time - even when she was intoxicated - she stayed true to who she was and stayed strong. Her opinions on herself have changed a lot, but a ton has changed throughout this story. She now has the money and fame she needs to help her family out, which'll be written next chapter. You can say that she really is the girl who defied all odds, considering the shit she was in. I loved writing for her, and I gotta thank you. Congrats on your first Victor.**

* * *

 **A/N: Ayee. That doesn't feel the same after writing this chapter. Short A/N, because hw calls, and I don't wanna drag this out. Once again, thank you to both of these readers for submitting their amazing tributes to me. Thank you to all of you for submitting your tributes to me. You all let me bring up, crumble, raise again, and change your tributes up to completely different versions of what they once were. You readers in the reviews, though. Y'all voted for the same person when I was expecting a completely different response, but hey, it's whatever. Tbh, I don't even know what to say in this note. It's not a chapter where you can express a lot. Just, thanks for reading. I really hope you guys enjoyed. Onto the questions, yuh?**

* * *

 **How did you like the ending?**

 **Anything surprising that happened here?**

 **Favorite death of this story?**

 **Favorite chapter?**

 **Overall, how'd I do with this story and chapter in general?**

* * *

 **Don't even wanna review this note, so excuse the mistakes, which I bet there'll be. Thanks for reading. Love you all, and I hope you guys have a wonderful day/night/afternoon/evening/morning doing whatever the hell you're doing wherever the hell you are. See you guys in the last and final chapter of this story whenever I can. Don't know when it'll be out or what I have planned, but I'll try to make it worthwhile. Once again, thanks for reading, I'll see y'all next time. Bye! ^-^**


	23. Life After

**The End:**

* * *

 _''So it's true? When all is said and done,  
grief is the price we pay for love.''_

* * *

 _It didn't take too long for Bree to recover from her injuries. A little patching here, some surgery there, a few stitches on the back of her head and she was all set to go. Sure, seeing the sight of random fluids traveling up the intravenous bag frightened her, but nothing was wrong._

 _Dehydration, depression, loss – that's what she went through. Nothing seemed real. Why should it have, though? She wished that everything was just a dream, that none of the things she faced ever happened. The loss of Kaster, Poet, Beckett, Ceres, Atlas and everyone else... it haunted her._

 _The beading sweat dripped from her forehead swiftly, overheating her body to the point where she believed that she had just awoken from a nightmare. Unfortunately, though, that nightmare was all too real._

 _''How you holding up?'' a familiar voice reached out to her. Dalan? Yeah, Dalan. Bree rose up from her uncomfortable position and immediately began to search for the appearance of her mentor. Everything was different. She knew it, and he knew it, too._

 _''I-I... I... I'm fi_ —'' _she hesitated. ''—actually, no, I'm not fine. I'm suffering; I'm in pain; I'm in agony; I miss my friends; I—''_

 _''Don't_ _hold anything back. Let it all out, because I know what you're going through. You build connections in the Games and become attached, but when you lose the ones you love, it's devastating. Every Victor knows how you feel – trust me.''_

 _''But... why?!''_

 _''Don't ask questions that you already know the answer to,'' Dalan groaned sadly. ''Nobody wants this, but what can we do about it? I don't mean to be the pessimist here, but I'm not gonna sugarcoat the truth.''_

 _''Start something new! Gather up past Victors and encourage District-folk to stand up to this cruel country that's being run by fruity-colored people who enjoy slaughter!''_

 _''You wouldn't believe how many times we've thought of that, but how would that work? Half of these Victors aren't interested in an uprising, no matter how wrong they know these Games are. The Careers aren't the most enthusiastic, and the older ones are too focused on different tasks in life.''_

 _''But—''_

 _''You're also forgetting that the citizens of Panem don't all have the same courage that you do. Sure, there are a few out there who think the same way as you, but what about Districts One, Two, and Four? You think parents who raise their kids to be killers are gonna want to fight by your side? They probably hate you right now. What about the malnourished people in the outer Districts? The ones with no hope or courage?''_

 _''I'll give them courage!''_

 _''That's exactly how a previous Victor thought like. And now she's deceased, because she couldn't keep her mouth shut and they sent her back into the Games! Rebellions don't work.''_

 _''Good for her! That's her problem, not mine!'' Bree shouted, surprising not only Dalan, but herself as well. ''...Look, I understand what you're saying. There have been many failed attempts at rebellions, but I don't want one.''_

 _''What do you want, then?''_

 _''I want change!'' she screamed, her motions filled with violence. ''Rebellions don't do anything for anyone. Haven't you fools realized that from past examples and learned to stop jumping to conclusions?! If another rebellion takes place, hundreds of thousands of people are going to lose their lives, innocents will be executed, and only more intolerance will be provided.''_

 _Instinctively, Bree sat up and rested the back of her head against the backboard of her temporary bed. She winced at the sensitivity of her occipital region, but she had trust that her cuts and scrapes would be healed soon._

 _Dalan rose up to his feet, got Bree a glass cup of cold water, and handed it to the current Victor. ''I've always loved how you thought outside of the box. Rebellions are old, but how is it even possible to convince the Capitol to come to a peaceful conclusion with the Districts?''_

 _Drinking down the entire cup, Bree sighed casually as she wiped the rest of the liquid from her bottom lip. Very sweet, very refreshing, she thought to herself._

 _''Things were different centuries ago,'' she proclaimed. ''It may be none of my business, but I have a theory as to why we're in this type of living standard in the first place. Before the Dark Days, back when there were multiple_ _—''_

 _''Before you even continue, I want you to know that the topic you're touching on is extremely classified, and being caught speaking of it will lead to an inevitable death.''_

 _''That doesn't phase me,'' she spoke loudly, careless of the maybe-there Capitol reporters and agencies listening behind her closed door. ''Have them kill me. What would their people think if their latest Victor died shortly after her victory? They know what their technology is like; they can fix any sort of damage you come to face with. They're not stupid, they'll know that something's up. Don't you think that they're growing in suspicion as to why many of their own just die off without any sort of warning? It's getting old.''_

 _Dalan chuckled a little. As he placed a warm hand on her shoulder, he closed his eyes. ''Remember when we had that little chat, and you told me that you weren't educated?''_

 _Bree nodded._

 _''Well, for a girl with little knowledge, you're very bright,'' he encouraged. ''With you around, maybe we'll all stop living in false hopes and look forward to the future. Your ideas, though?''_

 _''Documents, papers, meetings,'' she yawned. It had been nearly two weeks since she left her home District, and it's gotten to her. Bree definitely needed a rest._

 _''You really do restore my faith in society,'' he told her. ''But you need to rest. Go back to sleep, we can talk about this later, after everything that's planned for you.''_

 _''Like?''_

 _''Your interviews, your features, the ceremony awards, and the grand Capitol Party. You're gonna need your rest if you want to survive the week-long rituals. Hold off a bit more – it'll be a while before we go back home.''_

 _With that, Bree slid down her bed's head and lied on her pillow soundlessly. Her eyelids descended upon her eyes like shutters, broadcasting her entrance into the world of dreams._

* * *

 _''Time for your interview, Ms. Andersson.'' Bree nodded her head as one of the Capitol interns announced her plans loudly, after which she turned and faced Dalan, Alexias, and the rest of her crew._

 _''No hesitation, remember that, darling,'' her head stylist mentioned. ''Your attitude is what they will be paying the most attention to out there, so be positive, be strong, be fierce, be_ —''

 _''Be prepared,'' Alexias advised. ''All of those listed before are important, but what you need to show them is that you're ready. Confidence is key, I'm sure you know that.''_

 _Alexias was right. Even though Bree knew that her mental strength was extremely valuable at a time like this, she couldn't help but gaze at her mentor. ''Dalan?''_

 _Dalan squinted his eyes, trying to think of something smart or crucial to say, but nothing came to mind except for, ''Be yourself. Whatever you feel is right, say it. If you feel that acting is the way to go, then just know that I'm supporting you no matter what.''_

 _''Thank you.'' She got up and exited the room, being accompanied to her desired location by a group of four._

 _''Up this way, Ms. Andersson.'' They helped her ascend the steps, and she waited for Addison to finish rounding up the introductions._

 _''And now, without further ado, help me give a welcoming hand to introduce the Victor of the One Hundred Seventy-Sixth Annual Hunger Games: Bree Andersson!''_

 _The audience cheered with an alarming amount of excitement that seemed to be enough to send the roof above crumbling down. As Bree stepped onto the stage with her clicking high-heels, no-one could help the gasps that left them._

 _In her dress, her Amazonian figure sat well on her wafer-thin body. Her waist was tapered and she had a burnished complexion. A pair of arched eyebrows looked down on sweeping eyelashes. Her delicate ears framed a button nose, and a set of dazzling, angel-white teeth gleamed as she blew gently on her carmine-red fingernails. It was a pleasure to see her flowing, sandy blonde hair. Her enticing – usually dull, emotionless, chilling, steel-gray eyes – gazed at her surroundings over her puffy, heart-shaped lips._

 _Taking another step forward, she plastered a smile on her face. Soon enough, she reached Addison and shook her hand, making sure that her smile never wavered._

 _''Bree, welcome! Please, sit down,'' Addison gestured to the cushioned seat next to her. Bree sat down kindly, never letting herself break a sweat, no matter how frustrated she was on the inside. ''Before we begin, though, let us all have a moment of silence to respect the fallen tributes of this year's Games.''_

 _After an entire minute passed by, the audience raised their heads, and the official interview had begun._

 _''What's it like being a Victor? Has anything changed, do you feel any different?''_

 _Bree tried her hardest to think of an answer that would please the audience, but nothing came to mind. ''Honestly, I'm not too sure. I haven't gotten time to see the reactions that I'll receive in a few hours, or know what my District thinks of me. It's definitely difficult, though, knowing that people I've grown close to are now deceased...''_

 _''Mhm,'' Addison nodded. ''I understand. It must really hurt, doesn't it?''_

 _''...Yeah, it_ —''

 _''Like, knowing that only if you were alert and aware of what was going on those days where two of your allies died, maybe things would have turned out different. Do you ever feel like it was your fault that they died and not you?''_

 _''No_ — _I mean, I think that—''_

 _''You think the same results would have occurred if you were still 'there'? Is that what you're saying, Bree?''_

 _''Not at all,'' Bree stopped, making sure that she took a deep breath. ''Things would have been different, definitely. I just don't know how exactly, but—''_

 _Cutting her off, Addison brought up how Bree cursed out the Capitol near the end of her Games. ''Remember the hurtful words that you said? That left a bad impression on the Capitol, but you didn't mean them, did you?''_

 _''No, of course I didn't,'' she lied. ''It was just the heat of the moment, and I was upset with my friends dying. You can understand that, can't you, Addison? If you were to see people you loved die right in front of you, would you not be upset?''_

 _There was an acidic tone in Bree's voice that Addison tried to ignore, but the question was stinging with the need of an answer. Instead, she changed the topic and introduced the audience to the recaps of this year's Games._

 _Of course something like this would happen. Bree wasn't surprised, since this is part of the post-game traditions and has always been since the beginning. She slumped down on her chair, raised her hands up to her chin, and did her best not to let the tears slip free._

* * *

 _Ivy and ferns grew through the crevices of the old winding stone path, which led directly to the colossal structure. The mansion loomed proudly behind creaky iron gates, flanked by rows of skeletal trees crowned in crimson, swaying gently to the chilly autumn wind. At its threshold stood a delicate marble fountain with the soft gurgling of clear water that resonated a melodic tone in the surrounding silence._

 _''Holy crap, Bree,'' Cameron whispered, mesmerized by the beautiful, newly-acquired home for the Anderssons. ''You won this... for us... You're amazing, big sis.''_

 _''Not as amazing as you think,'' she groaned, obviously disappointed with what she encountered._

 _''Don't moan and groan,'' Miles responded. ''You gotta stop sulking and get rid of that depressing attitude. Look up and realize what you've done for your family. You've given them a beautiful home that's big enough for over twenty people! Come on, Bree, stop it.''_

 _Miles continued to nudge her until she finally looked up once more, only her eyes were puffy and red. She wasn't crying, or at least that's what she tried to tell herself, but the emotions were strong._

 _''I don't blame her for being in her feelings,'' Gunvor added in his two cents. ''The Capitol is full of a bunch of assholes. They're rewarding her for killing, Miles. I won't disagree and say that the house isn't beautiful and that she hasn't rightfully earned it, but after someone's just murdered and lived to see the next day, you can't push them by making it seem like what they did was a good thing.''_

 _''That's true,'' Bree's older sister, Laura, said. With the light shining down directly on her frame, her beauty stood out even more. The soft winds gently blew against her blonde hair – a bit too much, as you could clearly see the annoyance for the air in her face. ''But she should accept what she's been handed. It sounds bad either way, but at least celebrate the relationship that you had with your friends.''_

 _After that sentence, a small smile appeared on Bree's face. Maybe things weren't so bad after all; maybe things could get better; maybe the future had much more optimism in store for her. She was still young and bright – there are now so many things that she can do that were impossible for her just three weeks ago! Going to school is one thing – now her siblings, with her help, can finally reach the goals that they set out for themselves._

 _Unexpectedly, she made eye-contact with Evan's bright green irises. He shot her a genuine look of appreciation and satisfaction. Just as he was about to open up his mouth and say something, Alfie – Bree's younger brother – started to act up._

 _The mischievous twelve-year-old ran around in a circle and exited the gates of the home and, unaware of the Capitol's very presence watching over the family, screamed, ''SCREW THE CAPITOL! ALL THEIR PEACEKEEPERS ARE OVERWEIGHT AND BALDING LOSERS WHO NEVER GOT ANYTHING THEY WANTED IN THEIR LIVES SO THEY INFLICT PAIN ON OTHERS! I'LL BE THE BEST ONE IN PANEM'S HISTORY WHEN I TAKE THE ROLE AS PEACEKEEPER KING!''_

 _Bree's eyes widened to an extreme, and with that one look on her face, her mother and father immediately begun to chase after Alfie._

 _''Stop it, Alfie!'' her mother persisted._

 _''ALFIE, GET OFF THE STREET AND GET BACK HERE!'' her father yelled, panting._

 _Alfie turned around, took off his shirt, and continued to sprint off while waving it in the air. A few fellow residents of the Victors' Village came outside and laughed as the boy continued to act foolishly. Miles, Laura, Gunvor, and Cameron also chased after him._

 _Bree sighed, completely exhausted with all that she's had to suffer through thus far. Even though she knew she should be much more active in telling her family about the rules that she was appointed, she couldn't help but actually laugh with her brother._

 _Quickly, Evan approached her and placed an arm on her shoulder. At the time of the Reaping, Bree and Evan were romantically involved with each other. Desperately, it seemed, Evan was trying to restitch that seemingly lost connection that the two had._

 _He never told anyone, but he was highly jealous of the boy from Eleven that she met – they just seemed so close to one another that even he felt threatened. Maybe it was wrong to be glad that the two only became best friends, but he knew how deeply it hurt her._

 _''I'm sorry,'' he said, placing his head on her shoulder._

 _''Sorry for what?''_

 _''Sorry for everything that you went through. I can't understand how you're feeling, but I can see that it's killing you on the inside.''_

 _''Evan, you know me better than that,'' Bree rolled her eyes, but in a playful manner. ''I can handle this, but there's something else on your mind.''_

 _''W-What?''_

 _''Come on, spill it. I'm just keeping it honest.''_

 _''I_ —''

 _''You're gonna have to do more than just stand there and stutter, so say it,'' she smiled._

 _It took courage for him to bring up this topic, but he tried. ''Do you still... like me? I know while you were in there you probably didn't think much of me, seeing as you were with other people... but I still like you.''_

 _Bree looked up at the orange, summer afternoon sky, letting a few thoughts swirl inside of her mind. ''I don't know, Evan, but you're wrong about me not thinking about you. I continuously thought of you and my family and everyone else because I was so curious as to how you all felt knowing that I wouldn't be the same Bree you knew before.''_

 _''I appreciate your honesty,'' he nodded. ''But if it means anything, I hope you know that you're the same Bree I was in love with before... And the same Bree that I'm in love with now.''_

 _He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, gently rubbing her arm. Despite the heaviness in her stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of her body pressed against his. She sunk into the warmth of his side, appreciative of the simple gesture. His touch made the air warmer somehow, her future within this world seeming a little less despairing._

 _''You're the only person I know who gives indefinite hugs.'' Bree chuckled._

 _Evan snickered. ''Well, love, where else would I rather be?''_

* * *

 _Adonis' death was vain. It was a massive unfortunate event for his family, and the only people that they could blame were Imperial and that retched girl Blush. He fought his heart out on Capitol soil, and what was it for? Nothing! Absolutely nothing. Camille – Adonis' mother – was devastated when her son's body came back all mangled up and unrecognizable. She despised Imperial and ordered for a divorce case as soon as possible. Now in a long-lasting state of depression, she's considered suicide countless times. The only thing keeping her from ending it all is knowing that she still has a family. Aphrodite, on the other hand, is simply ashamed. She cursed herself for letting Blush just go up to the stage like that. She should've ran in and beat her to the ground, because surely, if both DiMae twins were in the Games together, they'd simply rule the Arena and one of them would the be Victor. Now working as a jeweler, she regrets every single thing that happened within the past couple of weeks. She always asks herself ''What if?'' all the time. Imperial, though, hasn't learned a damn thing from his actions. Still continuing to gamble with the money that he doesn't have, he remains losing excessively. It's only a matter of time before the people he shouldn't be trifling with become impatient and get theirs. If he doesn't have the money, then he must surely pay with something else... if you get what I mean. Without Adonis in District One, it's as if hundreds of people are lost. He had that much of an impact on the DiMae family legacy, but it all went to waste._

 _Blush was overall a disappointment to her family – even so, they still wanted her to live, and when she didn't, it destroyed them. Her father, despite his mature nature, completely broke down. Her mother... well, she wasn't as hurt by what happened. She constantly told Blush to get the flirting shit out of her head and be serious for once. When she saw Emil's sword go through her daughter's chest, she only shook her head. It's very common for the Belfleur family to get hate mail from the local children around the District. ''Your daughter's a slut!'' ''She deserved to die!'' ''She ruined Adonis' chance at a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity!'' ''I hope you feel the pain we all do!'' Her funeral was massive, though, with many visitors. Even Gari paid his dues – knowing him, though, he cracked a few disrespectful, dirty jokes that made the residents shake their heads. The businesses of her family continued, but it almost seemed as if a ghost was following both Darion and Amethyst. Was it sign that she was still in their presence?_

 _Atlas was with Faye once again, and that's all that mattered. Throughout his development, his father always sensed that something bad was going to happen. He didn't want to make his thoughts present, but when he saw Atlas' throat get stabbed, he fell into hysterics. Atlas' mother hadn't spoke in six months since her son's death, and what's worse is that they've lost two children now. Only their youngest – Ace – remains. You'd think that having two dead siblings die from costly actions would make you stray away from death and want to succeed in something else, but he wanted to Volunteer for the Hunger Games when he turned eighteen so that he could bring honor to his forgotten brother's name. Despite not wanting his brother to go in, something else fueled inside of Ace and he began to train harshly and seriously. ''All gas, no breaks,'' as he would tell his parents. Veyron and Lily took the death of Atlas roughly. It was a shock, because he was so prepared. Veyron looked after Ace while his parents were battling their feelings, and although he persisted to tell Ace that it wasn't worth it, he didn't listen. Maybe in two years we'll see him fight to the death – and win, if he doesn't change his mind._

 _Sigrid's death put the entire District in shock. How could she die in the Bloodbath, especially after being claimed to place so high? Magnus seemed to take nothing personal of Sigrid's death. After seeing his daughter die, he nearly shrugged it off, but there was a shiver to him. Maybe – just maybe – he had cared for her all along and she didn't realize it. He surely wasn't going to show it now, though. Valencia and her children had a field day with how stupidly she had died. Faustina felt as though Sigrid dying was her fault. If only she showed her daughter the right way to live life. After all, it was her that showed Sigrid that people only used each other, and Clarice solidified that feeling inside her mind for good._

 _They never knew how Emil actually felt until the day of his death. Barbara and Isaac wished that they had made time for their son, wished that they had more time to connect with him on a deep and spiritual level. Like the old saying goes, ''You never know what you have until it's gone,'' and they really didn't know what they had in their own son. His hate for his family, his hate for people who had connections with one another, it was all a mystery to them. How foolish, to let your own son die hating you, and you can't even apologize now._

 _Cathodette was finally at peace. Her father had no-one else to abuse, so he didn't know what to do with himself. The alcohol was too much for him to handle one day, and in a drunken frenzy, he made his way to the kitchen, grabbed a knife from the drawer, placed it to his neck, and the rest was history._

 _Jefferson was afraid of what was going to happen to his son while watching him. When he realized that he became close to that Atlas boy, everything changed – Zeppelin's personality, his way of thinking, the way he acted. It was over before Jefferson could even tell Leslie. She never understood his desire to be in the Games, and she never understood how she was reacting when he died. His open casket burial was one of the most sacred in the District's history. Being a runner-up pick, going decently far yet being blindsided... it hurt everyone. Being Zeppelin's biggest fan, Jefferson repeated, ''And if my people fall, then surely I'll do the same,'' at his ceremony. Desolation comes upon those who don't expect it._

 _Bridget was horrified to hear that Clarice was her daughter and that her only goal was to let her mother and her siblings know exactly who she was and how she felt. If she could turn back the clock and prevent everything that happened from occurring, she would. Adriana was nauseated with the news, but what was she supposed to do? She could only fall silent while Milah had to explain everything. Sadly, though, they never got to expand upon their relationship. It didn't seem like it, but Clarice and Milah were more than just friends at heart._

 _The only way that Mathias could cope with Beckett's death was by spending all the money that he received from his pay checks, and this became much more of a consistent thing than it was before. Riese has had to take time off of work because she just couldn't get her son's death out of her mind. Sometimes Mathias' constant spending, that she once loved, became a problem and they began to fight much more often than not. Maqui let his parents be and minded his own business. Only problem with that was that things that he loved weren't an interest to him anymore. The sports that Beckett preferred he didn't play just didn't seem as fun. Life became... boring._

 _With Cassia, it seemed as if nothing had changed. Her father cared a lot, seeing as she was always Daddy's Little Princess, but with the rest of her family and friends? Well, who cares, they were all still rich!_

 _On the morning of Poet's funeral, at least twenty-five percent of the District's population showed up. They all knew him to be the once loving and innocent boy who took care of his parents and siblings, the boy who always had a story and adventure to share when he was younger, the boy who was just too good for this twisted world. Bree arranged for everything, making sure that his body was brought back to the District and that his story was heard. He was given a slightly larger monument than the rest of the people buried in the cemetery. His picture was held up with that of his sister who committed suicide years ago. Despite the hardships that the family faced afterwards, Bree never let them down. Ellvin, Natty, Vito and Talita could all count on Bree to show up when times were getting rough. Vito was shaped largely by Poet's death and grew out of his snarky phase. Poet finally got his wish, but if only it was sooner. Talita, though, was hit terribly hard by Poet's death. All of the times she snapped on him and all of the times she told him that she wished he had died instead of Amalie flooded her mind. How cruel of her, she only realized. No matter how much she says to herself that she takes it back, it doesn't remove the fact that her wish for Poet's death was granted._

 _Everyone in the District felt disgusted with themselves when Mara spoke of Fidan and his life before the Games – she mentioned everything from his personality to his sex change, which only made the District folk feel even worse about his death. Nobody gave him a chance, especially because of his family's financial status, except for Parker. She always supported his identity, and even if some of the District people didn't like it and thought it was 'weird', she let him know even while he was beyond the grave. Parker, a boy who he's never spoken to, learned everything about Fidan all in one day. Although he didn't share the same feelings, it kinda hurt him knowing that someone who thought so kindly of him died and he never got to speak to them. Not once. Fidan's father, Aspen, was the same man he always was. Nothing changed, and he didn't even bother to attend the funeral. Work called, and he had to go; that was his excuse._

 _It was a mix of a good day and a bad day for both of Clarence's parents. Without their son, they could only take it out on each other. The items in his room were all that there was left to remind them of their little boy. He died hating both of them, but they couldn't be mad at him. The only people to point fingers at were themselves._

 _Loralei's parents didn't know how to react when their daughter died. It was a shock, but they accepted that she was gone. They couldn't keep looking in the past and mourning her every single day of their lives. Eventually they got over it, knowing that she died without any pain involved, but her little brother, Kurst, never understood why his older sister was never coming back._

 _Taisiya's family suffered with the loss of him, but Nikola never paid his death much attention. He was more frustrated with the fact that his one and only test subject was now dead, but his experiments needed to continue someway and somehow. At night, Nikola would go as far as to collect small, unnecessary things from his family members. One day he was caught, and, well..._

 _Rhea's adopted parents knew, deep down inside, that their daughter had no chance of survival. Everyone who had a connection with her did, but that doesn't mean that they didn't have hope. They all did... but it was lost in the process._

 _Avery's mother never knew of his sick personality. She didn't even know who her son was anymore. Maybe it was a good thing, to have a monster like him out of this world for good. She snuggled tightly with Jesse, doing her best to remain stable despite the years of work that have destroyed her internally. Little did she know that Jesse was just as bad as Avery, if not worse. In a few years, he might be in the same position, but even much more deadly. He's seen the mistakes, and you can bet your ass that he won't make the same ones. As for the 'popular kids,' Emily and Adam were all relieved when Avery died, but Amber was still alive. Soon enough, the two were reported. It might have been a cruel punishment, but Capitol punishment in the Square was what the two received. Hanging, huh? Such a different death to receive for stabbing someone multiple times._

 _Vendetta's death was kept out of harm's reach. Nobody spoke of it, not even her parents. If they did, their family would be in serious trouble, and that would put them all at danger. Xavier was upset with their parents' decision not to have a proper burial for his sister, and he would always question them in public and such. After a few months of that continuous behavior, they finally told him about the family business. Xavier didn't know what to think and even attempted to run away at times, but eventually he was persisted by his parents to join the organization – the one thing that Vendetta didn't want. Things don't turn out how everyone wants them to, y'know?_

 _Kaster was so close yet so far away. Everyone knew that he genuinely had a chance at Victory, even the most pessimistic people in the District. He was likeable, had a goal, and usually carried out with it. His leadership, which we only got a glimpse of, was not to be questioned. His death could be considered as a good thing. With it, both of his parents learned to stop fighting with each other and understand one another. They grew closer to each other. Eshlyn got to learn more about Reese and Isabelle as they visited more and more often, giving the family their condolences. Isabelle felt as though she lost her soul mate, while Reese knew he lost his best friend. Eshlyn reminded them so much of Kaster because she had picked up so many of his mannerisms; both good and bad. His actions never died with them. The three of them continued to terrorize Peacekeepers and make sure they heard it from the anonymous trio of District Eleven. Sometimes Eshlyn would take her time and let the other two go ahead first, just so she could say thanks to her big brother for all that he's taught her. She knows he'd be proud yet at the same time tell her, ''Don't do that, you know it's wrong.'' Thinking about him always made her sad, but whenever someone mentioned his name, you'd always hear, ''Yeah. That was my brother.''_

 _District Eleven had never seen both of their tributes make the finale and lose in the same Games. They'd come close multiple times, but third and second? That was unheard of! Iris, Monroe and Aster had so much faith in Ceres winning, and they could feel it on their fingertips. One wrong move from her and it was over. The memories just kept replaying over and over again. They knew who she was fighting for and why; they knew who she was, from thin and thick; they knew that she could have asked for nothing more. They may have lost the most outstanding person in their family, but they know that she's no longer suffering. Elissa cried for days after her best friend died. She felt empty on the inside, but the kindness in her heart was never broken. At the paid service for both Kaster and Ceres – which Bree provided for – she made sure to drop off lots of flowers and show her love. Poppy never understood a thing. She didn't know much, but her innocence was what made Ceres' death the most heartbreaking. ''Where's big sister?'' she would casually moan from time-to-time, snapping out of a playful moment in just seconds. The family couldn't explain to a three-year-old that her older sister had died. They only hoped that in the mean time, when she grew old enough to understand what the Games were, that she would connect the pieces._

 _What was there to say about Ocelot? His parents no longer struggled as much as they used to, but his death attacked them from the inside out. They knew what he went through, and how they felt about him was wrong, but they never did a thing about it. For the bullies, they realized that all that they'd done was for nothing. For sure, Ocelot made it further than any of those kids ever would, and they knew that for a fact. They could even remember the last words he muttered to them: ''Everyone has an equal chance at victory.''_

 _Ceres' family didn't have much hope in her, and neither did her friends. Granne kept it real with everyone, and after her death, Frank's sense of humor seemed to be lost. Harvey, Lily and Demeter appreciated that Ceres received a quick and merciful death. It wasn't dragged out, it didn't make them want to rip their heads off, it just made them sad. There are no perks to losing a loved one, even if you have to worry about one less stomach to feed. She was an innocent girl who didn't deserve the card dealt to her. They only hope that her soul is at peace, and that another tragedy like that never strikes their family ever again._

* * *

 _Following every single little detail, from her victory to the Capitol Party to her introduction to District Thirteen, Bree didn't know what she was planning to do. Honestly, where she found herself made her happy but frustrated at the same time._

 _As time passed by, she was recruited to an underground organization that was filled with tons of residents from Thirteen, but a certain trio wanted her most of all. Their ideas were very... suspicious and not what Bree wanted at all, but they continued to tell her what they expected from a Victor like her._

 _When she found out that they were planning on destroying a large amount of Capitol Skyline buildings, she wasn't for the idea at all. In fact, she disagreed and hated it, because thousands of people would die in the buildings and on the streets. The debris would be too much for the city, no matter how much technology they had to clear it._

 _''But think about it,'' Cedria, the only other female in the group, said, ''they've murdered thousands of people from your District and our own – actually, in all of the Districts! Don't you think that they deserve some sort of payback for the disgusting acts that they've committed?''_

 _''Even you know that it's necessary to retaliate,'' Louis added. ''Come on.''_

 _''I kinda agree with Bree,'' Araus chuckled nervously. ''Killing people just to prove a point doesn't solve anything. She just wants peace; I want peace; who doesn't want peace? This isn't the way to go.''_

 _''But it'll show the Capitol that the Districts aren't a joke, and an uprising can begin!'' Louis tried._

 _Bree didn't agree with any of it, but she wasn't the same person she once was. She know went along with what others thought was best, even if her gut told her not to. Later on, though, she'd be back. She just didn't know when._

 _''Fine,'' she rolled her eyes._

 _''Are you sure?'' Araus asked, quite surprised by her reluctance to do what Louis and Cedria want. He'd never been that serious before in his life, but even Bree knew that this wasn't a joke to him._

 _''Yeah. Promise.'' She smiled at him gracefully, but he didn't return the gesture. Araus sensed something but he shot it away from his mind. Whatever Bree said was fine, and that's how it went._

 _''Alright. On the count of three, I'll push the device.''_

 _''Three...''_

 _''Two...''_

 _''One...''_

 _''Go.'' Bree ordered._

 _The explosions appeared to look like fireworks because of how beautiful the destruction was. How ironic, huh? The very things that she didn't want to happen happened, and destruction grew to be beautiful._

 _Things would never be the same as before, she knew that for a fact. But that doesn't mean that change couldn't be welcomed. It certainly was with her._

* * *

 _Secrets Inside.  
Fin.  
_

* * *

 **A/N: Ayeee! And that wraps up Secrets Inside. Sorry this took so long to complete, but school was in the way, but Spring Break's started so I finally got the chance to finish off this story. Honestly, I'm exhausted, but I hope that you all enjoyed it. The proofreading for this chapter was crappy, but I don't care. It's done and out of the way. Those of you who've been here for a while know that I despise writing recap chapters just as much as I despise Interviews and such. Despite all that, I hope that this story was a good read, even through all the shit that happened. Third person really isn't my preferred type of writing, as you can all see that I suck at it, but it's fitting for recapping a story, and I like trying it out every once in a while. A lot of things were skipped because I just didn't want to write any more than I had to, and I got to the main points of this story as best as I could. Hopefully everything was clear enough for you guys. And if you were wondering why some of the things you might have just learned about a few tributes were only introduced now, it's because I always had those planned for the end. I know that I should be saying so much more than I am now, but you guys know me, nothing has come to mind. I'll probably have a lot on my chest to say in a few hours or so, so I'll fill those in later.  
**

 **Also, for those of you who don't know, I have a new SYOT named Set My Chains Free. It's on my profile and it follows the events of this story. You can go check that out and submit if you're interested, and I hope to see you guys over there, too. If not, that's fine, I'm good with whatever you guys decide to do. But yeah, not really much else to say. Final questions of this story?**

* * *

 **How'd I do overall?**

 **Was it worth the read, and why?**

* * *

 **Lastly, thank you to everyone who submitted a tribute to me. I loved each and every single one that I received, and I'm thankful, really. This story couldn't have started or ended without any of you guys, so just know that you were all a huge part of this from beginning to end. For the last time in this story, I hope that you guys have a wonderful morning/night/afternoon/evening/ whatever the hell it is wherever the hell you are, and I'll see y'all later. Bye! ^-^**


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